


The Beast Within

by Little_Bidoo (ComyD)



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Assassination Plot(s), Blood and Injury, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Eventual Smut, Forbidden Love, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Will update tags as story progresses, Worgen, Worgen Curse, Wrynncest, politcal treachery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:22:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25872049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComyD/pseuds/Little_Bidoo
Summary: There's a beast on the loose in Stormwind!When Varian Wrynn is injured on the hunt, Anduin believes the worst is behind them, that is until the King stars behaving rather oddly. As the bond between father and son grows, Anduin finds himself on the precipice of plot to overthrow the Wrynns. Can he and his trusted friends uncover the mystery of the beast? Is it possible the answers lie with an old ally?The city of Gilneas, surrounded by its walls. Maybe those walls aren't meant to keep others out, but rather to keep something in...
Relationships: Anduin Wrynn/Varian Wrynn
Comments: 41
Kudos: 20





	1. One Bite is all it Takes

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhhhhhh! So I told myself I was going to finish one of my other works before moving on to this. But guess what I'm weak willed. Tags may change as the story progresses, I hope you all enjoy!

Elwynn Forest was unnaturally quiet. Varian couldn’t help but note as he moved quietly amongst the trees, eyes surveying the surrounding land. He was beginning to have reservations about splitting up from his hunting party, but he pushed them aside, there were more pressing matters to attend.

For the last few weeks some farms on the outskirts of the city had reported that their livestock was being terrorized by a monster. Varian had initially been sceptical, but then the terrible howls had been heard. Varian could not ignore it any longer, and so he had assembled a small team of his best warriors to help him track and hunt down this beast.

So far the creature had proved elusive- talks with the farmers had revealed the creature was lupine, though they also said it walked on two legs. So he was essentially looking for a wolf like monster that could walk like a man… he was fairly certain it would turn out to be an abnormally large wolf, but he didn’t want to offend anyone and so kept his mouth closed.

The forest is still, and his senses tell him to run. Fear prickles at the back of his neck, and he’s certain if he were to reach back he would feel the hair there standing to attention. Something is wrong. He should at least be able to hear bird song, and yet there’s nothing- but the sound of his own heart and steady breaths. A sharp crack echoes behind him, and he spins with the speed of a trained warrior.

There’s nothing there, at least nothing he can see. He’s very aware that he’s being watched though. Seems he’s now the hunted rather than the hunter. Varian tightens his grip on Shalamayne ever so slightly, it would be a fatal error should he lose it when the attack comes.  _ Soon. _ He can’t explain how he knows, but he does- whatever is out there is waiting for the most opportune time to strike. Perhaps he can use this to his advantage.

Clouds float lazily over the sun. Varian feels a bead of sweat drip down the nape of his neck, the forest seems to darken all of a sudden. A faint breeze rustles the leaves and his senses seem to fire off all at once. He wonders if he should call out for help, or would that only encourage the creature? He curses himself for being so reckless.

A movement in the corner of his eye catches his attention. For a moment he wants to brush it off as a shadow- just a trick of the light. Years of battle experience say otherwise. He’s being toyed with, whatever it is, it’s clever. He tilts his head ever so slightly, trying to listen out for the slightest sound- but only silence greets him.

Varian continues to stand still, doing his best to keep his breathing even. It wouldn’t do for his quarry to know it’s unnerved him, he has to maintain the illusion of control. Nothing happens. Another breeze ripples through the forest canopy, small streams of sunlight filtering through the clouds, and it’s like the forest returns to its normal self- well minus the sounds of animals. Has the beast moved on? His heart rate slows and his palms no longer feel sweaty, perhaps he was just being paranoid. He wants to laugh at his own foolishness, but the relief he feels prevents him. Varian considers lowering his sword, but he doesn’t consider it for long. A rustle in the nearby undergrowth is all the warning he gets, before his stalker is upon him.

Varian curses loudly, swinging Shalamayne to fend off rather large and sharp claws. His fight or flight response has kicked in, and fight it is. Using his strength he forces the beast back. He can’t help but be shocked.

It’s large. It’s definitely wolf like, but a wolf it is not. The monster stands taller than him on two legs. Limbs rather long and muscular. It’s coated in coarse black fur, with wild looking green eyes. His focus though is drawn to the long snout and the rather menacing looking teeth it sports, best stay out of range of those, he thinks. The creature seems stunned he was able to push it back, and he takes its moment of confusion to launch his own attack.

He swings his sword with ease, and with such speed. The creature lets out a yelp as his blade grazes one of its front legs… or are they arms? It’s of no matter, he’s drawn first blood. He smirks feeling less afraid, it’s not invincible whatever it is. His attack only seems to incense the beast. It snarls, teeth gnashing as it lunges. It’s strong, pushing him back as few steps, claws able to hold Shalamayne at bay. Varian frowns, not liking this turn of events. He spins toward the creature, angling his elbow and hitting it in the gut with enough force to wind it. The monster growls and drops to all fours, panting harshly.

Varian doesn’t wait around, with a shout he brings his blade down, intent on splitting the beast's skull. Green eyes flash wickedly, and Varian can’t react. His own momentum draws him closer and with impossible speed and agility, the creature rolls out from the path of his sword and swivels to get behind him. His own strength prevents him from being able to dodge, and he curses himself for forgoing his usual armour in favour of hunting leathers.

Searing pain is all he is aware of as those fangs pierce his shoulder. Varian lets out a pained cry, bringing his non-injured arm up to punch at the beast's head. Thankfully it only takes two punches- for he doesn’t know how many more he had in him, and the creature pulls away. The damage is done though, blood runs freely down his arm, and he can barely move it. The beast seems to lick its lips, eyes blazing with savage satisfaction. It’s unnerving, almost like facing off against another person. It seems to grin at him, green eyes crinkling.

Varian swallows back bile, he’s starting to feel dizzy and the smell of his own blood is revolting. He has to end this, he refuses to die here. Anduin would never forgive him. He fights though the pain, the bite wound almost seems to pulsate and burn, and takes up an attacking stance once more. His opponent seems agitated by this, and crouches down to all fours once more, clearly intending to charge him. With a war cry that can probably be heard throughout the forest, Varian charges. The creature seems startled and in its moment of hesitation Varian is able to slash along from its chest to its belly. It lets out a furious howl, staggering around as it tries to stem its own bleeding… definitely intelligent. For a second Varian thinks he’s won, but to his great disappointment the monster snaps its head to him, and he sees with a feeling of stone-cold dread, that the wound he inflicted wasn’t deep enough to be fatal.

Varian’s limbs feel like lead, his right arm is in agony unlike anything he’s ever felt before. Against his will his hand twitches and Shalamayne drops to the forest floor. Varian stares dumbly at his empty hand, his mind is fogging over, this isn’t right, he’s not lost enough blood for his mind to be fogging over this much. The creature tilts its head, watching him with bemused interest. Why doesn’t it just finish him off? There’s almost something akin to sadness and regret in its eyes.  _ Or maybe he’s imagining it? _

The sound of voices reaches him and rather foolishly he turns his head to see. It’s only through luck or the beast's mercy that he isn’t cut down for such an amateur mistake. His hunting party! When he turns his head round to see the monster's reaction, he’s surprised to see it gone. Fur and blood are the only signs it was ever there. A concerned Mathias Shaw reaches him, eyes wide as he takes in his appearance. He says something to Varian, but he can’t be sure, for all he knows is pain, then all he knows is darkness.

He can hear muffled voices, as consciousness comes back to him. Varian is aware of lying on a soft surface. His eyes open slowly, and he’s relieved to see the face of his son, Anduin.

“I was worried you had left me.” Anduin teases, though his voice is strained enough for Varian to recognize it’s not a joke. He wants to answer but his voice won’t cooperate. Anduin runs a hand down his face, a small smile gracing his own. 

“What happened?” Varian finally manages to croak out, trying to sit up. Anduin lets out an exasperated sound, but seeing that his father won’t stay still he instead helps him to sit up. Blue eyes scanning him worriedly.

“Master Shaw brought you to me, you suffered what I can only assume was a nasty bite. You’re lucky it missed anything important! What were you thinking!? Going off on your own like that!” Anduin trembles with the effort of not raising his voice. Varian just lays back and regards him. Anduin has become a beautiful young man, he’s not long turned eighteen, no longer a boy- a small pang of sadness fills him.

“I was thinking I wanted this thing off our lands. I only managed to wound it, nothing serious. Damn it!” Varian growls, feeling frustrated with it all. Anduin frowns, eyes pointedly looking down.

“You lost a lot of blood you know.” His voice is barely more than a whisper, but it’s like he’s shouted to Varian. “You were so pale and barely breathing. The wound wouldn’t close up right away either, I couldn’t completely heal it… you’ll probably earn another scar.”

Varian turns to see his right shoulder is bandaged, he goes to pull it down and survey the damage but Anduin stops him.

“Leave it for now, you can see when I change the bandage later.”

He feels like a naughty child with the way Anduin speaks to him. When had their dynamic changed? He frowns feeling strange that it doesn’t trouble him.

“What’s your diagnosis then? Will I live?” Varian can’t help it, humour is his default for when their talks get a bit too real for his liking. Anduin blinks and moves closer, tightening the bandage.

“I think you’re a goner.” Anduin answers back with a small smile, eyes still fixated on the bandage. Varian can’t help but huff out a laugh at the wry statement. Anduin turns his head to add more, but the words seem to die on his lips.

They are close, very close. Varian wants to swallow, but he’s afraid the movement will startle the blond. Their noses are just shy of touching, and Varian is sure he could probably count each of Anduin’s eyelashes. Anduin’s face has become a rather enchanting shade of pink. He can feel Anduin’s breath ghosting over him, and it’s almost maddening. He seems so very much more aware of Anduin.  _ What’s going on? _

A knock on the door breaks the spell between them. Anduin sits up with a squeak, eyes round as he stares at the door. Shaw enters, staring between them for a second before shrugging and saluting Varian.

“Forgive the interruption, Majesty. I wish I brought you good tidings, but we couldn’t find the beast. Its trail just vanished.”

Varian frowns, deeply troubled by this. Something that large can not simply vanish, there’s clearly more going on here. He lets his head fall back as he tries to gather his thoughts. Anduin shifts beside him, he can practically feel his worry from here.

“I think my father needs to rest.” Anduin says carefully, still watching him from the corner of his eye. Varian scoffs, he doesn’t need rest, he needs to find this thing and finish it before it starts to move on from livestock.

“I’m fine. My shoulder aches, but my mind is clear.” Varian says softly, Anduin slumps in his seat and Varian wants to reach out, but he doesn’t it wouldn’t be appropriate. Shaw seems to stare at Anduin, before he looks back to Varian. Clearly he can read the tension, that Anduin isn’t happy.

“I could come back later, Majesty. I could have reports made up and plans of action for you to review?”

Ah, ever the problem solver. Varian nods, a small smile on his face at his Spymaster. Shaw has managed to come up with a compromise, without making Varian look weak. He’s wholly grateful to the man right now. Anduin seems to have perked up a little too. Shaw offers them both a warm smile and takes his leave. The silence that follows him is almost unbearable.

He wishes Anduin would just say what he wants to say. The waiting makes him uneasy. Anduin bites his lips, and Varian finds it oddly endearing. He finds it hard to look away.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped. I just… You really scared me today.”

Varian tenses, the raw hurt on Anduin’s face steals his breath from him. He feels like a right bastard. If it were the other way round, Varian realizes guiltily, he would be livid with Anduin. He reaches out, cupping his son’s face and turning his head.

“Forgive me Anduin. I should have been more considerate. I will rest, as the healer commands.” He flashes a smirk to the blond and Anduin lets out a small laugh. Tension leaving his body.

“Thank you, I’m going to see about getting you some food. You’ll need your strength if you’re going to go back on the hunt.”

Varian feels a stab of longing as Anduin goes to leave. He doesn’t want the blond to go just yet, but he can’t exactly beg him to stay. He lies back and closes his eyes, trying to sort out these very confusing and conflicting feelings storming within him. The gentle press of lips to his head, startles him and his eyes fly open. Anduin has already left the room.

Varian raises a hand to his forehead. It’s still warm where Anduin kissed him. His stomach flutters and a strange warmth blooms in his chest. Maybe he was more affected than he realized? He settles back into the bed, sure these emotions are just the result of his near brush with death, yes that’s all. He’ll do as he’s been asked and rest. Tomorrow he has a beast to track down.

As he falls into a fitful sleep, he can almost swear he feels a strange pulsation from the wound in his shoulder.

  
  



	2. Don't Leave Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Varian seems to have taken a turn for the worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! Part two, I apologize if it's a little slow getting started but I promise you won't be waiting too long for the action!

Anduin can feel his eyes starting to droop. He’s so tired, his body starting to slump. He sits up straight with a startled gasp.  _ That was close! _ His eyes blink, stinging from the need to sleep, but how can he? It’s been _ two days _ since Varian was attacked. Anduin had thought the worst was over when he went to fetch Varian some food. He had been wrong- for when he had returned to the room, Varian had been overcome with a fever.

Varian lets out a small moan, restlessly fidgeting from his place on the bed. Anduin swallows back a sob and instinctively reaches out, brushing sweat soaked locks from Varian’s face. His skin is far too warm, Anduin almost jumps back- it’s like fire! Hurriedly he reaches for the cloth and basin of water he’s kept at the side of the bed, making sure the cloth is properly dampened before placing it on Varian’s brow. The king seems to still, letting out a whimper of relief. Anduin can feel tears dripping down his face. He can’t stand seeing Varian like this.

Sitting back and resuming his bedside vigil, Anduin pulls at his own hair. It doesn’t make sense! He can feel the roots of his hair scream in protest at the rough treatment, but the pain helps to keep him focused- and helps with the frustration. By all rights Varian should be up and about, getting on with his normal routine. Anduin had taken great care in cleaning the wound, he was certain there was nothing in there, no way it could have become infected. Yet here Varian was, bedridden, and barely conscious at times. Anduin musters up some of his power, using the light to probe Varian, but to his ever mounting frustration he can’t find anything amiss. What’s even stranger is the wound itself! Nothing seems to get it to heal over, yet there are no traces of rot or poison. It’s all so confusing and irritating!

Anduin lets out a sigh and stands. He hunches over the bedside table, trying to calm himself.  _ It’s not fair! _ Varian is a seasoned warrior for lights sake! He’s survived being torn in half, fighting in the Crimson Ring, fighting Onyxia- not to mention the countless battles he had fought through. A  _ mere _ bite should not have the Alliance leader at death’s door! With a yell Anduin kicks the chair he had been seated on across the room. His chest rises and falls harshly as if he’s just run a great distance. Guiltily he looks to Varian, but his father is still asleep. Anduin wonders what Varian hears, if he is even aware of anything any more. He slumps down to the floor burying his face in his knees and just cries.

When he feels he has no tears left in him, Anduin lethargically makes his way to recover the chair. He was lost without Varian if he were to be honest.  _ Yes _ , his father had been training him to take his place- but Anduin didn’t feel quite ready yet. The House of Nobles were pushing him though, they were like vultures eager for a fresh carcass, clearly they thought Varian wasn’t going to pull through. Anduin worries his lip as he reclaims his seat, it groans in protest, no doubt he’d done some damage when he’d kicked it… it wasn’t the first time he had done so either. There  _ had _ to be something he’d missed. Maybe what was ailing Varian was magical? It was a shame his Aunt Jaina was unavailable at the moment, or he would have begged her to come- at present she was at Teldrassil aiding Tyrande Whisperwind with something. Maybe the High Priestess would have an idea, but he doubts she’d come running because he asked. 

Varian lets out a low moan, and startled Anduin stands to hover over him, light at the ready to soothe anything he could. The cloth on Varian’s head has all but dried out and with a shaky hand Anduin wets it and reapplies it to his father’s forehead. He can’t help but caress Varian’s face, cupping his scarred cheek and letting his thumb trace over the imposing mark. There were those who thought Varian ugly, but to Anduin he couldn’t imagine anyone more handsome. He can feel his face heat as he catches up with his own thoughts. Perhaps the light was punishing him. Punishing him for having such thoughts, and such desires. Anduin’s fingers trace Varian’s dry and chapped lips. Something in him aches to lean down and kiss them- but he doesn’t.  _ It wouldn’t be right _ . Not with Varian like this. Feeling suddenly drained, Anduin all but collapses in the chair. He leans back and tilts his head to the ceiling.

“Light, if you’re listening. Please don’t take him. I promise to do better, I’ll try harder to purge these thoughts. Just, please,  _ please _ let him live.” Anduin sniffs, as he pleads to the light. He’s grateful no one else is around, it’s hardly dignified for the crown prince to be seen begging. Varian wouldn’t approve, he’d give Anduin that look. The one that made him feel like he was ten years old and had just broken a priceless vase gifted to the Wrynns’ by the High Elves. He lets out a small laugh, recalling how he hated that look, yet at this moment he’d cut off his arms and legs to see it again.

“Varian, come back to me. Please, I need you.” Anduin leans forward and whispers into the king’s ear. To his bitter disappointment he’s met with silence. Nothing but the steady rise and fall of Varian’s chest. At least his heart and breathing were going strong. Varian still had fight in him, and it gave Anduin hope.

There’s a faint knock at the door. Anduin frowns turning to the door in annoyance.  _ Who would be disturbing him at this hour? _ The sun still had a few hours before it was due to rise. The door opens slowly, and Shaw enters, gently closing it behind him. He meets Anduin’s eye, his face taking on a grim expression and with a sigh the Spymaster approaches.

“Your Highness, forgive the intrusion. I understand your need to care for your father, but you need your rest. I don’t believe you’ve slept in the last day or so. I can have them set up a cot for you, I know you’d rather be here. _ Please _ , Prince Anduin you’re going to burn yourself out.”

Anduin frowns at the words.  _ How can he rest? _ Varian might wake or take a turn for the worst! He needs to be here at his side. What if the king should wake, and there’s no one here to greet him? Shaw seems to sense he’s about to argue, and holds up a gloved hand. The spy takes a few steps forward and crouches before Anduin. He looks tired, the lines around his eyes more prominent, like he’s aged considerably.

“I’m not asking you to leave him.” Shaw takes Anduin’s hands in his own. “You can sleep here, but you do  _ need _ your rest. The House of Nobles are like sharks, if they scent any blood they  _ will  _ come for you. You  _ need _ to have your wits about you, and if you’re not rested you’ll be devoured.”

Anduin grimaces at how true the analogy is. At least Shaw is understanding of his desire to stay at Varian’s side. If he’s sleeping in here, then at least Varian won’t be alone. Knowing it’s the right thing to do, after all maybe after some sleep he can gain a fresh perspective. He nods to the spymaster. Shaw lets out a relieved sigh, small- but tired looking, smile on his face.

“Thank you. Now, go wash yourself up. I will see about getting a cot made up for you here. Don’t worry my prince, I know he’ll come through this. The king isn’t going to let anything stop him.”

Anduin nods, feeling a lump in his throat. Shaw’s words inspire confidence.  _ He’s right! _ Varian will pull through, Anduin will see to it. He rises after the spymaster and lets himself be ushered to the bathroom. Shaw gives him a small nod and leaves the room. Anduin closes the bathroom door behind him and almost cringes when he sees his reflection.

He’d never been blessed with Varian’s complexion, where his father was dark and sun kissed Anduin was pale and fair. Though looking at himself now, he didn’t look far off being as pale as a ghost. The large dark circles around his eyes don’t help much either, he winces, he’ll need to put something over them tomorrow before he meets the House of Nobles. His hair, _ unsurprisingly _ , is messy. All the pulling and raking his hand through it in vexation, probably hadn’t done him any favours. _ No wonder _ Shaw had been so insistent. Sighing Anduin turns the sink taps, splashing water on his face, he will bathe properly in the morning.

He doesn’t have any clothes with him, so he rummages through Varian’s. He’s sure his father won’t grudge him borrowing a sleep shirt. Pulling it on, has him laughing slightly. The shirt comes past his knees, he really is tiny compared to his father. He can’t help but notice the shirt smells of Varian. He wraps his arms around himself and squeezes, closing his eyes and inhaling the scent. For a few seconds he can believe Varian is hugging him, but then he has to open his eyes and reality is unpleasant. He perches at the side of the bed, running his hand through Varian’s hair, and trying not to fall apart. Seeing as no one else is here Anduin gives himself a moment of indulgence and curls up next to Varian. 

He lets his hands run over Varian’s chest. The king’s thick chest hair matted to his skin with sweat, Anduin can’t believe the heat radiating from the man, by all accounts a fever this severe should have killed him, yet Varian’s vitals seem fine. To reassure himself Anduin moves his head so it’s over Varian’s heart. Closing his eyes he takes comfort in hearing and feeling the strong heart beat beneath him, steady as a drum. The king makes a small noise and stirs. Anduin sits up, sure he can see Varian’s eyes moving beneath his closed eyelids.  _ Is he having a dream? _ Anduin applies a cool cloth to his head, and Varian seems to relax. At least that’s something. He’s able to help his father in that way.

There’s a knock at the door and regretfully Anduin pulls himself away from Varian. Shaw and two guards enter, with a flustered looking Wyll.

“Prince Anduin! You really should have been in bed hours ago!” Wyll chastises, all but pushing Shaw and the guards aside to reach him. Anduin had never known his grandfather, but he imagines it would be like how Wyll fusses over him. He offers the elderly servant a small smile.

“Forgive me. I let my selfishness get the better of me.” Anduin feels ashamed. Yes his father is in a precarious situation, but as Crown Prince, Anduin has duties that he should be carrying out. He had failed everyone, mostly his father, by sitting here for two days. Wyll tenses and seems to grow more flustered, sputtering and waving his hands rather animatedly.

“Highness! That’s not- I didn’t mean- I was just!” Wyll stammers out searching for the right words. “Forgive me Highness. I am simply worried about your own health. No one begrudges you for wanting to watch over your father my boy.”

Anduin sniffs, feeling the tell-tale signal that he’s about to start crying. Shaw- ever observant, thanks the guards for their service and shoos them out the room. Wyll soothingly rubs circles on Anduin’s back, and just like that the dam breaks.

“I don’t know what to do!” Anduin wails miserably, sure he must look like a disaster-  _ he certainly feels like one _ . Wyll guides him to the cot and sits him down, Shaw is once again kneeling down before him.

“Prince Anduin, it’s alright. None of us ever thought we’d be in this position, but I have the utmost faith in you. After all, you’ve been trained by the best.” Shaw flashes him a warm smile and Anduin lets out a choked laugh, sniffing and pawing at his face, attempting to dry his tears. Wyll hands him a handkerchief, but decides to dab at Anduin’s face himself.

“It seems hopeless now, but you’re not alone. You have friends. Why don’t you ask Velen to come? Maybe there’s something he can do, or he might have seen this before.” Shaw continues on, holding Anduin’s hands in his own. Anduin feels his eyes widen. Velen!  _ Why hadn’t he thought of that!? _ Hope floods him at an alarming rate, and he stands so abruptly he almost knocks Shaw to the ground.

“You’re right! I shall write him a letter now! Where does my father keep the ink?”

Wyll lets out a sound of protest and shoots Shaw a reproachful look. The Spymaster shrugs looking rather sheepish, but Anduin doesn’t care, he has a direction now. If anyone can save Varian it’s Velen! He hopes the Draenei leader won't think him rude. He can make it up to him after.Anduin halts though, when he feels a firm grip on his shoulder. Making him turn in impatience, only to meet Shaw’s green eyes.

“I hope you won’t find my overstepping my boundaries, but I already drafted a letter and had Valeera deliver it earlier today.”

Anduin freezes. A million emotions running through him. Shaw had already written to Velen, he found himself sitting back on the cot. Wyll fussing over him rather agitatedly. 

“Thank you, Master Shaw.” Anduin breathes out, feeling relief. He will have to make it up to the Spymaster too. Shaw gives him a fond smile and shakes his head.

“Don’t. If I’m honest the blame for this is on me. I shouldn’t have let your father go off on his own. I should have cleaned the wound more thoroughly too. Forgive me Prince Anduin.”

_ Well _ . He hadn’t expected that! He had never once blamed Shaw, if anything Shaw’s quick thinking had only helped. Everyone in this room knew that once his father had an idea, nothing would deter him, Shaw was fighting a losing battle from the start. But he had cleaned the wound, and made a tourniquet- which had actually, probably saved Varian. 

“Master Shaw, I  _ never _ once blamed you. You’ve been nothing but loyal to my father. You probably saved his life. Thank you, for doing this, I am so very grateful.”

Shaw flashes him a grin, mischief in those emerald eyes of his. Anduin tilts his head unsure of what the spymaster is planning.

“Well, when he recovers. Maybe you can see about getting him to grant me a holiday. It’s tiring keeping you _ Wrynns _ out of danger.”

Wyll makes a disapproving noise, but Anduin pays it no mind. He lets out a giggle, which soon turns into a laugh, probably the first real laugh since Varian was brought back covered in blood. He feels decidedly lighter at this moment, his worries not nearly as crushing as they had been moments ago. Anduin wipes away a small tear, meeting Shaw’s grin.

“I am sure I can arrange that for you.” He says, and he means it. Shaw has most certainly earned that holiday.

“I think it’s time we let the prince get some sleep.” Wyll says softly, Anduin reaches up and gives the hand on his shoulder a gentle squeeze- a show of gratitude. Wyll’s face softens, and he squeezes Anduin’s shoulder affectionately. “I’ll be along in the morning to help you dress. We have to make sure you look impeccable for the House of Nobles.”

Anduin nods in understanding. He doesn’t want to meet them, to hear them complain, but he will- _ because it’s his duty _ . Shaw rises and claps him on the shoulder, before following after Wyll. Anduin hears the click of the door closing, and then the room returns to silence.

Varian lets out a moan, and Anduin is instantly alert. The king seems far more restless. Anduin runs to refill the basin, making sure the water is cold. He returns to his king's side. Dipping the cloth in the water, he wrings it out and begins running the cloth over Varian’s face. To his surprise, the man’s features seem to relax, and his father lets out a small contented sigh. Perhaps even in his state, the heat is bothering him! Anduin dunks the cloth back in the basin, running it over Varian’s neck, being sure to get the nape. He watches the man's face, pleased to see a reaction. Even if he’s unconscious, Varian seems to be feeling relief from his actions.

Anduin peels the covers back off Varian, he can’t stop the blush from covering him. The king was only wearing shorts under the covers, leaving most of him bare. Anduin allows himself the pleasure of drinking in the sight of Varian’s naked torso. Biting his lip to stop himself whimpering, as he runs the cool cloth over Varian’s pectorals, and down his abs. He itches to be able to run his hands over them, but fights it. Now is not the time, he doubts there ever will be, but when Varian is asleep is most certainly not a priestly thing! Next he cools Varian’s arms, Varian’s biceps are probably as big as his head! (If not larger!) He tries not to let his imagination run away with him, on what that strength could be used for. He wasn’t looking forward to his next confessional at the Cathedral, that was for certain. Moving on to Varian’s legs now, trying his best not to drool. He’s aware of the way the muscle tenses and relaxes in his grip.  _ It’s a good sign! _ Varian can feel outside stimulus, which means his mind isn’t gone at least.

With that small thought in his head, Anduin makes his way to the cot. Feeling as if he can actually rest now. Hopefully tomorrow he will have word from Velen, and then he can stop worrying. Shaw and Wyll are right though. He needs to rest, if he’s going to face down the House of Nobles he will need every ounce of mental power.

For the briefest moment as he’s drifting off to sleep he swears he hears his father whisper his name. With a small smile he realizes, it’s probably the beginnings of a dream, for a glance at the king shows that he’s still asleep. Letting his eyes droop, Anduin looks forward to the pleasant dream, where Varian will whisper his name. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	3. Thoughts Not My Own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Varian awakens, but is all well?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so for some reason I had a strong wave of inspiration for this story. I am working my way through the others. I promise.

Varian blinks his eyes open slowly. He must have dozed off when Anduin left to fetch him supper. His stomach lets out a small growl at the thought of food and Varian winces. He turns his head expecting to see Anduin with his disapproving frown- but to his shock,  _ Velen _ is at his bedside!

“Wha!?” Varian croaks out, surprised by how dry his throat is. The Draenei man blinks at him in surprise. A hand already reaching out to placate him.

“King Wrynn! I must say it’s good to see you awake! Just a moment and I will explain.” Velen says with a smile. He turns to Varian’s bedside table, chair creaking in protest, and pours a glass of water. Varian raises a brow, surprised to see a pitcher there. Varian sits himself up with ease, and accepts the offered glass, grateful to have his burning thirst quenched at last. He downs it with ease.

“What’s going on? Why are you here? Where’s-”

Velen holds up a hand, looking far too amused, he silences Varian fairly easily. Varian lets out a huff and inclines his head, waiting for Velen to just get to the point.

“What is the last thing you remember, your majesty?” Velen asks, sounding rather cryptic.  _ Why does the old Draenei have to be like this? _ Everything’s like a riddle and overly mysterious. Huffing again he closes his eyes and recalls.  _ Anduin! _ Anduin had promised to get him food and had kissed his head. Without thinking, he reaches a hand up to where he’s certain he can still feel the warm press of lips. Velen shifts in his seat, and Varian clears his throat letting his hand drop. 

“Anduin was treating my wound, and I believe he was going to fetch me… I can’t recall if it was lunch or dinner- but I suppose I must have fallen asleep. “ Varian says thoughtfully, nodding as he turns to Velen. Velen lets out a hum, and turns pensive.

“I see. Well, I suppose it’s best to inform you that that was five days ago. Please let me finish-” Once again Velen has a hand up, to silence the string of questions about to come forth from Varian’s parted lips. He can’t help but roll his eyes at the Draenei leader and leans back against his pillows.

“Thank you. Now, where was I? Oh yes, you’ve been asleep with a fever for five days. I must say I was surprised when Prince Anduin reached out to me, he’s one of my most promising students. I don’t need to tell you what a skilled healer he is. Admittedly I was curious to see what ailment could be causing him trouble. I have to say, I find myself somewhat perplexed.”

Varian arches a brow, the great Velen perplexed? He can’t imagine why, he feels  _ fine _ \- better than fine, great! His stomach rumbles again- louder this time. Velen cocks his head, looking at Varian as if he’s some intricate puzzle in need of solving.

“I couldn’t find anything wrong with you. Perhaps you should request Lady Proudmoore visit to examine you. Just on the off chance it’s magical. That being said, you look well. How do you feel?”

Varian pauses for a second considering the question. He feels pretty good. Well rested-  _ hardly surprising _ , given he’s been asleep for days. Other than hungry and perhaps a little thirsty, he can’t find anything amiss. Though the aches and pains due to ageing seem to have resided somewhat. He rolls his shoulder, surprised when the joint doesn’t creak.

“Have to say, I have never felt better. Speaking of your student, where is my son?” Varian asks, hoping he sounds casual. Truth be told, he feels a little hurt and uneasy that Anduin isn’t here. For some reason, he can smell the prince though. As if his scent has permeated through everything in his room. His head spins.

“Ah, yes the prince. Fear not, he is well. He didn’t leave your side for the first three days I’m told.” Velen’s lips press into a thin line, “Looked dreadful when I arrived yesterday. He’s probably not getting much sleep, sleeping on that.” Velen tips his head to the side and Varian notices the cot. Anduin had been sleeping in his room! A strange sense of... _ pride? _ Fills him. He wants to see Anduin, _ now _ preferably. 

He all but scrambles out the bed, he should feel embarrassed about one of his allies seeing him in such a state of undress, but he figures being a healer Velen has probably seen it all. Velen seems surprised- if the slight widening of his eyes is anything to go by.

“I can see, you are certainly not in the least bit hindered. I shall alert the prince that you are awake. I dare say he will be eager to see you.” Velen chuckles out already rising and heading for the door. Varian nods, doing his best to remain aloof, while his heart thunders in his ears. Once Velen has left, Varian finds himself strangely agitated, he can hear the Draenei’s leader’s footsteps even after they should have long faded… frowning he realizes he can hear quite a lot. The bustle of the keep. Guards having muffled conversations. He feels momentarily disoriented, and closes his eyes. Taking calming breaths.

Only, with those breaths he breathes in the scent that is Anduin. Something within him stirs. He finds himself before the cot, lifting what can only be his sleep shirt and inhaling the scent. A primal part of him rumbles in deep satisfaction- Anduin’s scent mixed with his. The image of the blond wearing his shirt also pleases him. Varian stumbles back, tossing the garment as if it’s poison.  _ What was he thinking!?  _ Anduin is his son! He covers his face with a large hand, trying to hide his shame. It’s like Anduin’s smell clings to him, as if it’s ingrained into his very being. A bath will sort this!

He all but races to the bathroom, filling the bath and furiously scrubbing at himself. He goes to wash his hair and freezes. There appear to be small braids plaited into his hair… how odd.  _ Who would have done that?  _ It’s a redundant question, for he already knows. The scent of Anduin is as woven into his hair as these braids. Sighing, he unpicks them, impressed at how fine they are. He dunks himself under the water. Holding his breath and clearing his mind.

_ Golden eyes flash in his mind. They appear to see into his very soul. His shoulder burns. _ Varian opens his mouth to scream. This proves to be foolish for he’s still underwater. He surfaces choking, as he fills his lungs with much-needed air.  _ What was that?  _ His heart hammers furiously, and one hand clamps over his injured shoulder. The wound looks unchanged, yet Varian swears the skin there somehow feels warmer, as if it has a pulse of its own. His head spins again and he sits in the bath. Perhaps he had spoken too soon. Or maybe he was just hungry. Some food should have him feeling right as rain.

He pulls himself out of the bath. Shaking his hair, rather like a dog. Towelling himself as he searches for clothes to wear. He feels a little warm and opts for a light linen tunic and plain trousers. He can make himself more regal tomorrow. Varian’s just retying his hair into it’s signature high tail, when he hears the sound of footsteps racing towards him- whoever it is, is eager for they have broken into a sprint. Varian can almost hear the sound of their breathing. The door bursts open, and he doesn’t even need to look to see who it is. That maddeningly sweet scent assaults his nose and as he turns a blond and blue blur barrels into his chest.

Lithe arms wrap around his torso- as best they can, for Varian is rather broad. Anduin’s face is buried in his chest, and he can feel tears, staining his tunic. Anduin’s frame- so much smaller than his own, shakes with his sobs. He can’t help but gently wind one arm round Anduin, while the other pets his head soothingly. A rather exasperated Wyll appears at the door, panting and very out of breath. Upon seeing them he straightens, and wipes a tear from his eye.

“My king! We’re so glad to see you awake and back on your feet! Is there anything I can do?” Wyll chatters away, though Varian can read the concerned look in the older man’s features. He was rather protective of Anduin, and was no doubt giving the prince a moment to compose himself. 

“Actually, if you wouldn’t mind I am rather hungry.” Varian says softly, so as not to frighten Anduin. Wyll nods and smiles, bowing respectively before heading away from the room. Anduin sniffs loudly, arms squeezing Varian tighter. Varian leans down, resting his chin on Anduin’s head.

“It’s alright, I’m here. I’m fine.” Varian murmurs as Anduin lets out a rather pitiful wail. He can’t help but press the boy towards him closer. The need to comfort his crying son is strong.  _ Mine _ . The thought comes unbidden, and Varian tenses for a moment-  _ what? _ The thought his own, but at the same time not quite his own. Anduin, blissfully unaware of Varian’s turmoil nuzzles his face into his chest.

_ Bite him! Devour him! So sweet! _

Varian releases Anduin, taking a step back and turning away. Anduin makes an alarmed sound and guilt pools hot and unwelcome in Varian’s gut. Varian takes a deep breath, trying to push away the thoughts. He’s startled as a small hand entwines with his own. Whirling to face Anduin, who looks wary.

“Father? Are you… Is everything…” Anduin’s voice breaks and the grip on Varian’s hand tightens ever so slightly. Varian returns the gesture, gently squeezing the delicate fingers.

“I’m fine, just a little dizzy. Probably just dehydrated and hungry.” Varian placates. Eyes roaming over the prince’s face. Velen was right, Anduin looks exhausted. His skin is far paler than usual, dark circles under puffy red rimmed eyes. Varian instantly cups a face with his free hand.

“Anduin! Have you been sleeping?” 

The blond winces and looks suddenly sheepish. Eyes darting to the side. If there’s one thing about Anduin Varian knows for certain, he’s a terrible liar. 

“Anduin Llane Wrynn, you’d better not lie to me.” He says rather bluntly. It earns him a squeak and wide eyes. A faint blush dusting his fair features. Varian bites back the grin about to break out on his face. His son, so innocent and naive. 

_ Untouched! Unblemished! Claim! _

Varian’s grip tightens and Anduin yelps. He releases his son’s hand as if he’s been burned.

“I’m sorry!”

Anduin, shushes him, before hugging Varian once more.  _ What is going on with his mind!? _ These thoughts! Perhaps he should speak with Velen later. His fingers itch to dig in to Anduin, to have the blond on his back, splayed out and waiting for his touch. 

“Father it’s alright! I’m not hurt. I’m sorry I was going to lie!” Anduin blurts out, clinging to him desperately. His scent fills Varian’s nose and out of some sort of instinct, Varian pulls Anduin against him. Head dipping down to the crook of his neck. Varian inhales deeply. His mind whirls, and he’s filled with a strange sense of euphoria. 

Anduin whimpers and instantly relaxes. Snuggling against him as if he belongs there. He does. Anduin should be in his arms. 

“I’m sorry I worried you.” Varian finally says. Throat thick with an emotion he can’t place, making his voice hoarse. He tightens his grip on Anduin, resisting the urge to bite down on that point on his neck, where he can practically see, smell and hear Anduin’s life thrumming. 

_ Claim. Claim!  _ **_CLAIM!_ **

This voice screams in his head, he ignores it. Pulling back from Anduin, hoping his son can’t hear the shaky breath he’s just released. He presses his head to Anduin’s forehead, before gently pressing a kiss to the blond’s brow. Anduin’s hand reaches up to cup Varian’s face, a small thumb just stroking his cheek gently. They stand like that, not saying anything, but Varian can feel it all. Anduin’s worry, his relief, his happiness all in that one gesture. He wants to say more, but the gentle knock at the door has them breaking apart. Wyll enters holding two trays.

“I hope I didn’t overstep, but I assumed his highness would be joining you for dinner.” 

As if on cue, Varian’s stomach lets out a particularly loud rumble. The scent of the meat is intoxicating, he almost licks his lips- but manages to stop himself. Anduin lets out a small giggle, using his sleeve to dry his tears. Varian rolls his eyes good naturedly, just glad to see the blond looking more like himself.

“Thank you Wyll. I would be grateful for the company. Anduin can inform me of what I’ve missed.” Varian answers the old servant back, nodding his thanks to him. Anduin nods, a small smile gracing his face. Wyll seems pleased and moves to the anterior chamber, where Varian has a small table for such occasions. Wyll places the trays down and bows to them both before leaving. 

Anduin is practically glued to his side, as if he’s afraid to move. Varian ruffles his hair affectionately, giving him a small push.

“Take a seat, I’m not going anywhere” Varian laughs out. Trying to keep his mind under control. Anduin standing so close is driving him wild. His natural sweet aroma now overpowers the food. He gives Anduin another nudge, gratified to see the prince take the hint and take a seat.

“ _ So, _ what did I miss?” Varian asks, taking his seat and eagerly uncovering his dish. Pleased to see Wyll has wrangled him an extra portion of what appears to be duck. He can barely contain himself, tucking in with gusto. Anduin watches him for a second, a fond smile on his face- and doesn’t that have Varian’s stomach flipping. 

“Nothing much. The House of Nobles have been particularly bloodthirsty. They wanted me to take over as king as soon as you fell into that fever.” Anduin eloquently says, while cutting his meat rather primly. Varian, feeling a sudden wave of embarrassment, slows down his eating, trying to emulate Anduin. He finds himself scoffing at Anduin’s words, how like the nobles, already trying to manipulate the situation.

“What’s more is, I’m sure one or more of them have been spreading rumours. Saying you aren’t doing anything about this beast and that you don’t care.” Anduin’s face becomes rather grim and Varian notices the way his fists clench around his cutlery. “I was so worried. I thought you were going to leave me.” Anduin puts down his cutlery and buries his face in his hands.

“Anduin I-” Varian wants to comfort the boy. But his senses pick up something. The hairs at the back of his neck rise. There’s something off.  _ Someone else is here _ . His ears detect the faint sound of footsteps, someone trying to be stealthy. Anduin seems unaware. Varian’s jaw clenches, and he grips his knife tighter.  _ Closer, closer _ the steps come. Varian is ready to pounce. In a show of amazing speed, Varian is on his feet, intruder in his grasp, knife at their throat.

_ “Varian!” _ Valeera screeches, eyes wide as she takes in the knife at her throat. Anduin is on his feet, eyes equally wide. 

“ _ Valeera!? _ What were you doing sneaking around like that!?” Varian feels irritated, he releases the female elf with a sigh. Valeera stumbles forward, throwing him a sharp glare, hand rubbing her throat.

“Nice to see you too.” She deadpans out. Anduin has moved to stand next to her, and he pats her shoulder sympathetically. Varian rolls his eyes at her, and puts the knife down. Surprised at his own reactions, he’s never been that attuned. Normally she always manages to sneak up on him.

“This is why you should use doors, ‘Leera” Anduin says, wincing a little when the elf shoots him one of her signature glares. 

Before Varian can reprimand her for breaking in, she launches herself at him, looping her arms around his neck and hugging him. The voice in Varian’s head howls in fury, as her scent fills his senses. He sees the small look of hurt in Anduin’s eyes, and the voice all but roars.

_ Usurper! False! Shred it! Rip its throat out! _

Varian doesn’t feel like he’s in control, his arms move without his consent, and he harshly pushes Valeera away. She yelps out in shock and stumbles back. Anduin has his hand over his mouth. Varian can only stare, looking down at his hands in horror. 

“Varian! What was that!?” Valeera shouts, looking visibly shaken. “I was worried about you, you know!” She has her hands on her hips, eyes narrowing.

“Father? Is- is everything alright?”

His eyes snap immediately to Anduin, The blond fidgets under his gaze but looks genuinely worried. Varian can only nod.

“Forgive me Valeera. I don't know what came over me. I must have been more affected than I thought. Are you injured?” A small part of him feels guilty, that he’s only asking to appease Anduin. Valeera has been one of his oldest and dearest friends. Yet for some reason all he wants is to hurl her from the window.

“It’s alright. I shouldn’t have tried to sneak in. Though you’ll have to tell me how you knew I was there!” Valeera says, totally oblivious to Varian’s inner turmoil, It seems he’s completely forgiven. 

“Valeera I heard you, you were hardly displaying your master stealth skills.” Varian levels out at her, with an eye roll. He had heard her so easily. Valeera seems taken back by his words, she looks at Anduin as if he can clear it up. Anduin looks just as confused.

“Valeera, maybe you should go. Father seems tired.” Anduin says carefully, speaking to the elf, but keeping his eyes on Varian. Varian wants to huff out in indignation, he’s not tired. But he can tell Anduin is trying to get her to leave, without causing offence. Valeera stares between them biting her lip and nodding. She makes her way to the door, shooting Varian a smile.

“OK, next time I’ll be sure to wait until you’re unarmed.” She cackles rather cheekily, as she leaves. Anduin laughs out exasperatedly as she goes. Turning to Varian.

“Father, are you sure you’re well. For a minute I thought you were going to hurt her.” 

For a minute, Varian  _ had _ contemplated it. He can’t tell Anduin that though. He hasn’t felt this at war with himself since he was split in two by Onyxia. Varian sits back at the table, appetite gone.

“I don’t know what came over me. I just heard her and assumed she was a threat. I just wanted to protect you.” 

Anduin lets out a small gasp and moves to stand before Varian. He wraps his arms around his head and just rests his own on top.

“I’m so glad you’re awake.” Anduin says against his hair. Varian hugs him closer, feeling so much calmer. 

_ Mine!  _

Varian feels nauseous, why is he thinking such a thing at such an inappropriate time? He taps Anduin’s arm gently, indicating he should let go. Varian feels such an aching feeling of loss when Anduin reluctantly pulls away. Standing awkwardly before him.

“The beast. Did Shaw have any luck?” Varian asks to fill the silence, he can’t bear to look at Anduin- at his  _ son _ . Afraid of what he’ll do, or what he’ll see there if he does look. He has a duty to his people, he promised to keep them safe, and he’s already let them down-  _ let Anduin down. _

“No. It’s still attacking the farms. It hasn’t attacked any people, other than you. Shaw says the trail keeps vanishing. The nobles want to hire outside help.” Anduin chews his lip and lets his arms swing at his side. His unease does little to assuage Varian’s doubts.

“They might be right. I will address them tomorrow and speak with Shaw. You’ve done well Anduin. Thank you for carrying on for me.” Varian turns to him with a small smile. Anduin hiccups, hastily wiping at his eyes to pre-empt the tears. 

“Shaw and Wyll had to tell me. Father I let you down. I just sat here for three days, I was so afraid I’d blink and you’d be gone.” Anduin’s voice breaks and Varian can’t help but inwardly preen at the words. Anduin had stayed with him for  _ three _ days. Seeing his heir so badly shaken though, takes precedence.

“Anduin, you didn’t let me down. You did what any human would do. If it was you suffering a fever, do you think I would be away from you?” 

Anduin’s eyes widen, and he looks down, fidgeting with his shoes. Slowly he shakes his head.

“I know you would want to, but your duties would take priority.” Anduin answers truthfully, a knowing smile on his lips. Varian hates that he’s right. He would be dragged away eventually, but he would  _ have to _ be dragged away nonetheless. He reaches out to ruffle Anduin’s hair again. The prince relaxes into his touch.

“I never thanked you for staying with me. Velen said you hadn’t been sleeping. I hope, now that I am awake you’ll take care of yourself.” Varian says, trying to be stern but failing miserably due to the kicked puppy look Anduin is sporting. The prince puffs out his cheek and looks down, nodding solemnly. Varian feels his heart melt a little and stands to hug his boy again. For some reason he seems to need physical contact with the priest. Anduin only too happy to return his hug.

_ Bite him! Devour him! Claim him! _

The moment is ruined by his chaotic thoughts. He needs to rest, and face the day fresh. Clearly he’s experiencing delayed shock to his own ordeal. He gently prys himself away from Anduin, keeping the prince at arm's length.

“You should get some rest. In your own bed. I’m fine Anduin, I can’t stand the thought of you making yourself ill. I don’t think my heart could take it.” Varian says, trying to sound humorous, but no doubt failing due to the quiver of Anduin’s lip.

“Anduin, it’s not that I don’t want you here. I just want you to be happy and comfortable. I’m going to need you well rested to help me face down the nobles tomorrow!” He says with a smirk, pleased at how Anduin colours. The boy seems to debate in his head for a moment before letting out a sigh.

“Fine, I understand. But please, please promise me, that tomorrow when I wake you’ll be awake and yourself.” Anduin pleads, blue eyes- so much like his own, burning into him. Varian swallows, unable to look away. 

“I promise.” He reaches a hand out, it’s something they used to do when Anduin was very small. His pinky is extended, and he’s extremely relieved to see the smile spread on Anduin’s face, as the blond wraps his own pinky around Varian’s.

“You know if you break this swear, I get to put needles in your eyes” Anduin teases him, and Varian is gratified to see the mischievous glint lighting up the boy's eyes. 

“I believe my heart just stops. If I break the sacred swear.” Varian answers back wryly, brow arched. “You seem _ far _ too keen at the prospect of shoving sharp pointy things in my eye, should I be worried?”

Anduin lets out a chime like laugh, cheeks rosy and looking so much more like himself. Varian gently ruffles his hair.

“Now off with you. I’ll get this cleaned. I will see you first thing.”

Anduin smiles as he’s walked to the door. They linger there for a few moments, Varian not really wanting to let the blond go, but he can’t keep him here. Not when _ those _ thoughts are running through his mind. Anduin hovers at the door a few minutes before turning and placing a small peck on Varian’s cheek.

“Goodnight. Remember you promised.” Anduin’s face is red, and he can’t meet Varian’s eyes as he scampers off. Varian stands there lingering after he’s left, hand on his cheek, staring dumbly at the empty space Anduin had occupied moments before. He closes the door, feeling Anduin’s loss already. His mind is restless, and he finds himself letting his hair down and standing on his balcony. 

The White Lady is out, not quite full, but almost. The wind blows his hair, and he closes his eyes just feeling at peace. He can hear the rustle of small animals in the garden below, something in his blood stirs, the need to give chase overwhelming. Varian gasps as he opens his eyes, clutching his shoulder as it pulsates. 

_ Run! Chase! Hunt! _

His mind howls at him, and he feels the strong desire to just run free. He paces, like a caged animal, suddenly full of restless energy. It’s getting harder to distinguish his thoughts now. His fingers flex and twitch. He recalls looking up at the moon. Then he recalls nothing at all- except the wonderful sense of freedom.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oho! It's finally getting to the good parts! Thanks for bearing with me through some of those mushier bits. Thank you as always for reading!


	4. Don't Open the Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been more than a week, and things are far from normal. With strain on their relationship, what does the future hold for the Wrynns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, my! I didn't realize how long it had been since my last update. I hope this chapter proves to be worth the wait. I hope this reads OK, I was finding that a lot of my own feelings about things were filtering in and I did my best to keep them separate. I hope it doesn't ruin the story for you.
> 
> Also, a shoutout to my fried who read this over for me so many times!!!!!!

Anduin hears the tell-tale sound of blunt nails scratching the arm of the chair- he doesn’t need to turn to see that his father is growing more irritated by the second. It had been just over a week since his father’s miraculous recovery, he wished he could say everything had been plain sailing. Varian’s mood had become darker and darker, it was like watching a storm cloud drifting across the sky- _unfortunately, that storm seemed to be headed his way_.

Anduin shifts ever so slightly in his seat, pressing his leg subtly against his father’s. The king starts, and gazes at him from the side of his eyes. His expression softens- but only marginally. Anduin can’t help but take stock of the shadows under the man’s eyes- as if he hadn’t been sleeping. Perhaps that was the cause for the sudden mood swings. Though Anduin had never been on the receiving end of one, he had witnessed and heard the tales. Varian’s behaviour was becoming concerning.

He watches his father roll his shoulder- the one that was injured, ever so slightly. The movement probably lost to anyone else. Anduin worries his lip and looks down. The wound was bothering him, though it had healed somewhat, only an angry red scar remained. Somehow the wound was still tormenting him, but whenever Anduin probed he couldn’t find anything. His hands ball into fists, to hide the nervous tremor spreading through him. The nobles have been particularly relentless today.

The beast was still on the loose. It had been devastating livestock. Anduin shudders at the memory of the mutilated sheep carcass presented to them only hours ago. The farmers are growing restless and impatient. One Lord Lescovar in particular seems set on sinking his teeth in. 

“I don’t mean to seem rude, _your Majesty_ .” His emphasis on Varian’s title does not go unnoticed. Anduin can feel Varian tense beside him, he prays his father can reign his temper in. “But, it would seem the situation has gotten rather out of hand. The… l _ower classes_ , are whispering about how fit you are to lead, if you can’t slay one beast.”

Anduin can feel anger boiling hot in his gut. Years of training have taught him how to keep his face schooled, but he would like nothing more than to show his displeasure at those words, and the tone.

“With all due respect, Lord Lescovar.” Anduin interrupts, before Varian can. “My father went out personally to track and hunt the beast, and was wounded in the process. I would ask why _his_ position is being questioned, when out of everyone sitting here he is the only person to have actively tried to solve the problem.”

The lord sneers at him, but his mouth snaps shut. Anduin may not be a warrior, but he most certainly will not be talked in circles. This is his field of expertise. The other nobles grumble amongst themselves, but no one speaks up. Anduin levels them all with a cool stare, Lescovar is one to watch, but he doubts the man is acting alone. Varian is looking at him, a small smirk playing on his lips.

“Thank you, Anduin. “ Varian tips his head to him, eyes warm. Anduin hopes his face isn’t flushed, for a strange warmth has suddenly filled him. “I understand your concerns, while I tried, I did _indeed fail_ , to kill or capture the creature.” Varian adds, acknowledging Lord Lescovar. The other man seems surprised but doesn’t comment.

“I am taking it that since you spoke up _so_ passionately, that _you_ must have a plan of action.” Varian tosses out casually. Anduin arches a brow, impressed that in his current mood Varian has eloquently played the game. Then again his father is a warrior, and a keen hunter. It’s unmistakable in his eyes right now, the glint of a predator going in for the kill. The lord goes silent, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, before snapping close.

“That’s what I thought. You’ll all sit and criticize, but none of you have solutions. We don’t need more problems- _am I clear_.” Varian’s tone brokers no room for argument. The other nobles pale, and nod like obedient children. Anduin can sympathize- he’s been on the receiving end of that tone himself in his youth. Suddenly Varian rises, looking very much finished with the conversation. Everyone looks to Anduin in confusion- but Anduin isn’t sure what’s going on either.

“Father?” he asks quietly, hoping Varian is going to do a turn of the room, to further impose his point. Instead, the king makes for the door.

“The meeting is adjourned for the day. I need to think and I can’t do it here.” The High King snaps back, eyes glowering at all those seated still. Anduin feels that sense of dread coming back. Here it was, his father’s mood had flipped. Not that he was _particularly happy_ moments ago, but he was at least willing to participate. Something is off and Anduin is determined to get to the bottom of it.

As his father leaves, he can still feel eyes on him. He’s once again reminded of Shaw’s words. That the nobles are like sharks, scenting for blood. He straightens himself in his seat.

“Your Highness, it pains me to say this but, I am not sure your father is in a fit state to lead us.” Lescovar seems intent- eyes gleaming as though he knows something Anduin does not. It sets his senses on high alert. “Since his injury I am sure you’ve noticed it yourself, he’s becoming irrational, his moods are unpredictable. There are those saying he has returned to drinking- like he did when your _dear mother_ , Queen Tiffin passed.”

Anduin does his best not to flinch. His mother, a woman he had never known, would never know and yet felt petty jealousy towards. It was stupid, of course his father loved her, missed her and still grieved. A normal son would understand, would empathize. But he was disgusting, and twisted. Feeling jealousy, wanting his father to look at him with that level of devotion. To fill the role of lover, rather than son, was Anduin’s secret fantasy. He shakes those thoughts away- they were delusions and nothing could ever come from them. It was time to grow up and move forward.

“I think if I were you, I’d be mindful of my words. That is _dangerously_ close to treason my lord. My father hasn’t lost his faculties. His moods are due to frustration, after all we keep having these meetings and _nothing_ is getting done. Perhaps we should all reflect on our own shortcomings, _before_ pointing our fingers.” Anduin says calmly. A few of the other nobles smirk, taking pleasure in Lescovar’s scolding and not so subtle warning. The noble regards Anduin for a moment before taking his seat and blessedly staying quiet.

“Your Highness. While Lescovar, speaks rashly and out of turn. Some of us do feel the King has not quite been himself. Perhaps a temporary step down could be arranged- just until he has recovered. I heard he was rather ill.” Count Ridgewell says timidly, raising his hand as he speaks. Anduin frowns. The Count is being careful of his words, and he isn’t outright calling for Varian’s dethroning perhaps an ally- he will need to watch.

“Perhaps His Highness should start to consider marriage and continuing the bloodline. After all you are of an age where you should be welcoming the chance to be around pretty maidens.” Lescovar sneers, eyes glinting maliciously. There’s a faint tittering around the table as the others consider his suggestion. Anduin bites his lip, ever so slightly- to hide his nerves. He didn’t like women. But to come out and admit such a thing- that would be political suicide. Instead, he schools his face into a casual smile.

“Perhaps his Lordship should consider _who_ it is he is speaking to before attempting to give orders.”

Just like that the room falls silent. Lescovar, turns a satisfying shade of red, before storming out of the room. Anduin doesn’t even watch him leave- opting instead to stare down the others, an attempt at sussing out Lescovar’s conspirators. He’ll have to ask Shaw to dig around for him.

“Well.” Anduin says keeping his voice chipper. “It would seem once again the meeting is adjourned. Please come tomorrow with solutions. That will be all for now.” Anduin eloquently bows his head in acknowledgement of his peers. The Nobility rose, waiting for him to leave the room first. As he heads to his own private quarters, Shaw falls into step behind him.

“Well handled your Highness. They were particularly vicious today.” Shaw compliments him, but he can see the tired look in the Spymaster’s eyes. “I’m sorry to say I don’t have any news. It’s like this thing just vanishes- we’ve had trackers from all over out to look.”

Anduin worries his lip. This isn’t sounding promising. His stomach lurches unpleasantly. There’s something highly suspicious about the whole thing, but Anduin has no proof- no starting point. He can’t help but feel this isn’t the worst of it.

“My father?” Anduin enquires out, doing his best to keep his voice even. Truth be told he was hurt his father hadn’t waited for him- had walked out and left him to the sharks. Ever since Varian had woken, Anduin couldn’t help but feel the man was keeping his distance- always at arm's length. They hadn’t eaten together or been in a room alone together since that first night Varian awoke. Had his father heard him in his coma? Panic kicks in. Did Varian hate him now? Was he disgusting and unworthy in the eyes of his sire?

“My Prince?” 

Anduin blinks, trying to clear the moisture in his eyes. Shaw looks at him with a small crease of concern on an otherwise unreadable mask.

“Forgive me, you seemed lost in thought. Your father headed to his offices. Valeera accompanied him, so I have no doubt he’s in safe hands.”

While Shaw’s words should have comforted him, all it did was bring the intense burning sensation of jealousy. Varian had Valeera go everywhere with him these days. Leaving Anduin behind. He hated how much he was beginning to resent the Blood Elf who was like a sister to him. It was so silly, being jealous. She was a long time friend of his father- they had battled together many a time, had adventures, while he… He wipes subtly at his eyes. He was Varian’s son. That was it, that was all he could ever be. Being horrible to Valeera or thinking unkind thoughts about her would not change that. Perhaps this was his sign, that he should give up his foolish wish and move on. 

“He probably doesn’t want to worry you. I’m sure that wound is bothering him, but he’s too proud to admit it, or he doesn’t want you to lose sleep fussing over him.” Wyll has appeared, following on Anduin’s other side. He offers a smile to the kindly man. Grateful for his words. Shaw nods.

“Do you think he’s acting out of turn?” Anduin asks, not looking at either, too afraid to see their faces. He worries the hem of his coat, fingers twitching and in need of something to keep them occupied. 

“I will admit his moods seem to fluctuate unpredictably.” Shaw states, “But, I do not believe it hinders his ability as King. Nor do I think it means he doesn’t want to be around you. In my personal opinion, I believe he is aware of this himself and doesn’t want you to be subjected to a foul mood.”

Anduin stops, blinking. He hadn’t thought of it that way. He only saw it as Varian pushing him away, when in truth it was very much like his father to protect him- albeit in an unconventional way. A small smile dances on his lips. Hope taking root once more.

“I would have to agree with Master Shaw.” Wyll chimes in. “I believe he trusts you to carry on these meetings when he feels he can not. You are after all a very bright young man. There are few who could out talk you.”

Anduin cringes at the praise. _Talk_ . Yes, that’s all he _could_ do. He wasn’t a born warrior like his father, couldn’t hunt or track. He had no real use other than to be able to keep the nobles in check. Even then, _he was barely succeeding._ He was an utter failure and it was no wonder his father couldn’t so much as look at him. A hand on his back rouses him from his thoughts. Wyll smiles warmly, a knowing look on his face.

“Prince Anduin, you’ve grown into a fine young man. Your father sees that more than any of us. _Believe me_ when I say he is proud. I know the look of a proud father when I see one.” Wyll, fusses. Straightening Anduin’s jacket and correcting his posture. “Much better. The Crown Prince of Stormwind, shouldn’t be slouched. He _must_ stand tall and firm.”

“Now your Highness, the look on your face tells me you have something to ask of me and SI:7. Ask and we shall ensure it’s done.” Shaw bows to him, eyes glinting with pride. Anduin smiles. Taking a deep breath in and exhaling slowly to release his nerves. _That’s right_. He does have a mission for Shaw. He turns and begins walking once more- the two men following him without question.

“I do indeed Master Shaw. I would like you and your agents to look into the nobility. _Lescovar_ in particular- he seems the _mos_ t vocal. I doubt he’s acting alone. I want to know who the enemies of House Wrynn are, and how we can stop them trying to come for our heads.”

Shaw grins at his words, nodding to show he understands and accepts this task. Anduin had no doubt the Spymaster and his agents would leave no stone unturned. It eases some of his worry. If he can acquire more pieces, then it will give him an advantage in the game. 

"Of course, Highness. I shall report back to you tomorrow evening with my findings. Would you prefer me to be at your study before supper?" Shaw responds with the expected level of professionalism Anduin has come to expect. Anduin mulls over the question.

"I think I would prefer after. I don't want to sour my appetite." His response is met with muffled snorts but Shaw nods and suddenly disappears- just _how_ do rogues do that? Wyll follows him, very much his shadow. Anduin isn't sure where he's going. Suddenly the thought of Velen pops into his mind. He could use his mentor's wisdom right now. He nods to Wyll who catches on, taking the opposite corridor leading to Anduin's quarters rather than following the prince to the guest wing.

  
  


Anduin finds Velen sitting in his quarters, reading. His mentor smiles warmly at him as he approaches, taking a seat across from the old draenei.

"You're looking troubled, Anduin." Velen muses out. He smiles, but Anduin can see the sympathy in those eyes. "I take it you are still worried about your father?"

Anduin swallows the lump of raw emotion that had lodged itself in his throat. He nods to Velen. Looking down at his lap, feeling pathetic and very much thirteen again. Velen hums.

"You have no reason to doubt yourself or feel you have failed. Even _I_ can not figure out why the wound has scarred. By all intents and purposes the king should be fully healed, with no lingering pain and yet it is not so. I believe there is more to it, than either of us know. Perhaps the arcane could help us.”

Anduin feels Velen’s words wash over him like a soothing balm. If even his mentor can not find the cause, then Anduin can cut himself some slack. He mulls over Velen’s words- truth be told he had written to his Aunt Jaina, asking for her guidance. He had yet to receive any word back.

“Perhaps, Lady Tyrande or the Archdruid could assist. They’re long-lived and have probably seen many things that we could not begin to fathom.”

Anduin wants to roll his eyes- as if Velen is not older than them. Though he supposes Tyrande and Malfurion are from Azeroth, so are more likely to have encountered an injury like this. Velen smiles knowingly- as if able to read Anduin’s mind.

“What’s really troubling you?” The draenei asks, book closed and set aside, clearly forgotten. Anduin blinks in surprise, not sure what to make of the question. What is bothering him? It could be the nobles out to overthrow his family, or it could be worrying about Varian’s health. Or maybe, it’s the nature of Anduin’s feelings for his father. The prince lets out a sigh, sinking into his seat- as if hoping to disappear.

“I’m not sure yet. I feel that I’m missing something, and it’s something obvious.” Anduin rakes his hands through his hair. Trying to ground himself. Velen hums in response, those eyes peering right into his very soul. Sometimes Anduin finds it comforting, but right now it has him on edge.

“Maybe _I_ am not the one you need to speak to. Something weighs heavily upon you, it seems as if you are carrying some great weight on your shoulders. A burden that heavy, is better shared, _no?_ ” Velen answers him. He ponders his mentors words, shocked at how cryptic and yet how on point to his inner worries they are. Is it possible Velen _can_ read minds?

“I think you’re right. I do need to speak with someone. Thank you Velen, as always your wisdom is very enlightening.” Anduin smiles at his mentor. He knows what he has to do- he _needs_ to speak with his father, it’s the only way to put his mind to rest.

Despite his bravado in Velen's room, anxiety gnaws on him as he heads to his father's study. Yes, he does need to speak with him, but what about? Varian's behaviour? His wound? The supposed drinking? Anduin's feelings? The list could go on. He's not entirely sure how receptive Varian will be to such discussions. Most certainly the one regarding Anduin's personal feelings. What was he supposed to do? Walk in there and be like "Father I am in love with you." _Sure_ , that would go down well. He shudders at the thought of Varian recoiling back from him, or worse sending him away.

So absorbed in his own thoughts the prince finds himself before his father's office sooner than he would like. He fidgets awkwardly, trying to summon up his courage. His throat is very dry all of a sudden and as he finally manages to raise a shaking hand to the door, he notices his palms are sweaty. Just as his knuckles are about to connect with the door, he hears a sound that paralyses him. _Valeera giggling_ . His brain seems to stop and all he feels is a wave of nausea. His father's answering chuckle, has his hand limply falling to his side. He just stands- staring at the door, unable to move. A hot feeling fills his gut then. White-hot and righteous. _He hates her_. Hates Valeera at that moment. Wishes she would disappear back to her friends in Dalaran and leave them be.

Something drips to the floor, startling him from his thoughts. Tears drip down to his chin, before plunging to the cold stone of the ground. Anduin watches in morbid curiosity, unaware that he had even begun to cry. He stubbornly reaches up to dry his eyes, determined not to let anyone see him. _His pride will not allow it_. To his horror the office door opens and a rather surprised Valeera stands before him. Her green eyes wide, clearly not expecting him.

" _Anduin!_ Are you alright!?" She exclaims, no doubt taking stock of his tear stained face. She reaches out to him, but anger burns within him, and he steps back. Valeera blinks in surprise, a small crease in her forehead and confusion in her gaze.

"I'm fine. I was wanting to speak with my father, but I can see he is _busy_ ." Just like that Anduin turns and marches down the corridor. Ignoring Valeera and his father as they call for him to return. He doesn't think he could stomach it. Having to sit there with them both. _So_ his father can laugh and joke with _Valeera_ , but Anduin _has_ to keep his distance? _Very well then_ . He bangs his room door shut, taking great satisfaction is slamming the deadbolt into the lock position. _He would rather be alone._

Anduin isn't sure how long he lies face down in his bed. Face hidden in his pillows. His eyes sting- no doubt from the constant crying since locking himself in his room. Wyll had been at his door minutes after he had collapsed on his bed, but Anduin couldn't stand the old servant to see him like this, to see the disappointment in his eyes that Anduin had crumbled under his own emotions.

"Prince Anduin, please may I come in? This is very unlike you. Has something happened?" Wyll tries to reach him through the door. Anduin closes his eyes, he doesn't want to be rude to Wyll, but he also wants to be alone 

"Not right now Wyll. I want to be alone." He calls back. Pleased his voice doesn't I've away his feelings. The older man sighs but Anduin is grateful when he hears his steps disappearing down the corridor.

Valeera had been next. Anduin had been sure to lock his windows and close his curtains in preparation for her. She was the _last_ person he wanted to see or even speak to. She's far more persistent than Wyll. Banging loud in his door and shrieking his name in different tones. At one point he can hear the muffled voice of Wyll asking her to stop. But Valeera is stubborn.

"Anduin! _Please!_ At least speak to me! Did someone say something to you? Do I need to kick someone's ass?" She does her best, an old joke between them, as she attempts to wrest a laugh from him. Anduin turns his face away from the door. Right now he only feels anger and bitterness towards her. Eventually she concedes defeat, by the sounds of it a few of the guards and servants have asked her to stop. He will forever be indebted to them.

A small part of him is angry that his father had not come. To Anduin that speaks volumes, and it would seem he has his answer. Varian does not want him around. Fresh tears well up in Anduin’s eyes, and he finds himself sobbing his heart out until he must doze off. The sky has started to darken, when he becomes aware of his surroundings. Groggily he pushes himself off the bed and heads into his bathroom to wash his face. It’s unsurprising when his face stares back from the mirror, still puffy from crying. He splashes more cold water to hide it. He was going to have to face someone eventually.

As he leaves the bathroom and heads back to his bedroom, Anduin almost leaps a foot in the air. Perched at the bottom of his bed is none other than Shaw! Anduin gapes for a few moments. The Spymaster arches a brow at him, clearly waiting for him to say something.

“H-h-how, how did you get in here?” Anduin eventually manages to stammer out. Eyes wide as he scans the room- perhaps a secret tunnel or hole in the ceiling? His room looks very much the same as when he’d left it though. The spy’s lips twitch up into a small smile.

“I _am_ a rogue. Lock picking is kind of my speciality.” Shaw deadpans, tipping his head towards one of Anduin’s large balcony windows. Anduin can only stare in awe, sometimes he forgets how scary Shaw actually is. “As for why I’m here- _to pre-empt your next question_.” Shaw says calmly, “I was asked by your father to check in on you. Apparently you refused Wyll and Valeera entry. Your father had asked Valeera to deliver this-” the spy holds up an envelope. “But it would seem she gave up and slid it under the door.”

Anduin tries to process all that. His father had sent Shaw? Any other time it would please him, but right now- right now all he feels is renewed anger. _So he wasn’t worthy enough for his father to seek out in person!? It was up to others to pass on messages or check on him!?_ A small growl rumbles in his chest. Shaw looks up at him in surprise- at least if the ever so slight widening of his eyes is anything to go by. 

“Well you can tell him I’m fine.” Anduin answers coldly. He feels a small pang of guilt when Shaw flinches, after all it isn’t _his_ fault that Anduin is upset. The spy extends his arm, holding the envelope out to him. Anduin can see his name scrawled in Varian’s hand. His fingers itch to reach out and take it- but another more stubborn p.art of him refuses. If his father can’t come and speak to him in person, then _why_ should Anduin do him the courtesy of reading his letter? Shaw frowns, opting to put the letter on Anduin’s bed instead.

“I believe he was wanting to dine with you… At least that was what I was told. Do you, uh, want me to pass on a message?” Shaw tactfully asks, trying to suss out the situation no doubt. Anduin folds his arms- as if hugging himself.

“You may simply tell him, I will dine in my quarters alone. Please and thank you.” Anduin replies curtly. His anger has cooled a little- but his annoyance still simmers under his skin. He’s not a dog Varian can command whenever he wants! Not to be set aside until it’s convenient for the older man. He’s being petty and immature- _he knows_. But right now he wants to grieve- mourn the harsh reality that there is no place for his unrequited love. Shaw blinks and opens his mouth but then promptly closes it. 

“Very well. Would you mind unlocking the door? The climb up here wasn’t pleasant and the climb down probably less so.” Shaw quips at him, rising and making his way to Anduin’s anterior chamber. Anduin follows, noticing the folder sitting on his parlour table. “I found little things, but nothing incriminating I’m afraid. Just the usual; meeting with whores, gambling, black market deals. Nothing about treason. I will keep looking into it. Lescovar doesn’t strike me as being particularly clever.”

Anduin snorts at that. Shaw’s not wrong there, though Anduin’s not sure if this news bodes well for him and Varian. Especially given how open the noble was being during today’s meeting about his disdain for Varian. No, Anduin’s senses tell him the man is a threat, one that he should be wary of. Shaw seems to sense his mood and puts a hand on his shoulder.

“I promise, we will leave no stone unturned.”

Anduin smiles weakly and nods. Shaw’s reliable, he has no doubt the man will stay true to his word. He unlocks the door and Shaw steps out. Anduin’s guard looked relieved to see him, but wisely no one commented. Shaw bows to him, before heading off- no doubt to pass on Anduin’s message. Anduin nods to his guards.

“Forgive me for causing so much trouble. I’d like to be alone, I will see Wyll if he should come back.” 

His guards stand straight and salute, twin replies of “Understood, sire.” ring out in the now empty corridor. Anduin tips his head to them before retreating back to the safety of his private chambers. He has much to think on. Locking the door once more just in case Valeera decides to pay him a visit again. He still hasn’t quite forgiven her.

Anduin pours over the notes Shaw has brought back. It seems Lescovar does indeed like to frequent the brothels of Stormwind, though other than blackmail material- Anduin wonders what Lady Lescovar would make of this, there’s nothing substantial to hold over the man’s head. Maybe Anduin is just being paranoid. He puts the files down with a sigh. Wyll had appeared an hour ago with a tray of dinner for him. The old servant had fussed over him, and Anduin had let him, feeling guilty for shutting him out earlier. 

_His father had not appeared once._

Anduin leans back in his seat. His anger and irritation had all but smouldered down to nothing now, and the cold feeling of guilt was all that was left within him. A part of him wants to sit back and let his father stew, but another part of himself wants to seek out the man and apologize. Anduin covers his face with his hands and screams. Why does everything need to be so complicated? Why couldn’t he have been born normal? Why did he have to be in love with his father!? For that’s what it was- love. 

The letter Shaw had placed on his bed is still there. Anduin finds himself staring at it. His fingers itch to open it, but there’s a deep sense of unease rooted in him. Why would his father write a letter and not come himself? He has so many questions and a way to answer them- but he’s afraid. Afraid of rejection. After warring with himself for a small eternity, Anduin succumbs to his need for answers and hastily opens the letter.

He frowns as his eyes scan the page, not sure if he’s disappointed or confused at this point, he scans the page once more:

_Anduin_

_Since you will not speak with Valeera, I have taken it upon myself to write this note to you, in the hopes you will join Valeera and myself for dinner. I am hoping you are feeling well by this time._

_Varian_

Anduin crumples the note and tosses it aside. His anger is back. So his father had wanted him to tag along to a dinner with him and Valeera? Anduin’s fingers twitched and somehow crumpling the note wasn’t enough. The hasty scrawl- _as if it had been done as a second thought_ , makes him snarl. He probably wouldn’t have been invited at all if he hadn’t been caught hanging around outside Varian’s office. _Not only that!_ The way he ended the letter, _Varian!_ Not father, not even a term of endearment! Anduin throws himself onto his bed with a frustrated scream. 

He lies there as dusk yields to the dark of the night. The White Lady and Blue Child, shining in the sky as they slowly rise. Anduin tosses and turns on his bed. His father has never been great with words he rationalizes with himself- the man seemed allergic to displaying any sort of affection, _unless_ it’s a life or death situation. Anduin shudders as he recalls their disastrous Remembrance Day only a year ago. He had thought they were both going to die and it was one of the few times he had ever seen his father as anything but the fierce warrior. _Maybe_ he was getting carried away, and while that poor excuse of a note had seemed insincere- _maybe_ , just maybe it was because his father didn’t know _how_ to pen his real feelings. Realizing that lying here and wallowing in self-pity isn’t going to help him, Anduin rises. He needs to face his father, even if it brings pain.

The walk to his father’s room is far from pleasant. The corridors are deserted, and every step he takes echoes out around him. He can’t tell what thumps are his steps and which are the beats of his heart- which has surely jumped up into his throat. He tries to swallow, but finds it difficult. _For Light’s sake!_ He’s going to speak to his father! It’s not an execution! Despite his protests his mind runs off without him, conjuring a whole array of scenarios where Anduin ends up disowned, banished, executed or all three. His hands sake at his sides, what if his father isn’t alone? The thought has him almost bringing up the meagre dinner he ate. The wind knocked right out of his sails. He’s not sure how he would handle it, maybe he should wait till morning… Only, it seems he’s already here.

Cursing himself inwardly Anduin stares at his father’s door. Never had he considered the possibility of a door seeming ominous before- but here he is. Anduin frowns. Where is his father’s guard? Even if they don’t stand outside his door, they are at least on either ends of the wing… _There’s no one_ , no sound save his own heart, and ragged breath. Fear prickles along the back of his neck. _He should go back_ . A small voice in his head calls out. Should come back in the morning. But being the Wrynn he is, Anduin knocks on the door. The sound echoes out around him like a shot from a gun. _There’s no answer._ The door however, creaks open ever so slightly… _It wasn’t locked?_

“Father?” Anduin calls out timidly, stepping into his father’s anterior chamber despite the alarms going off in his head. The room is dark. Anduin cautiously proceeds, almost stumbling over something- a broken chair? Anduin stops and looks down. The chair has been smashed to pieces! His father must have been in a rage… As Anduin looks around, he can’t help but notice the other odd things. The couch is ripped, as if someone ran a dagger down it. Books and papers lie everywhere. Broken glass from, various items litter the ground, crunching beneath his boot- just like fresh snow. Ink pools on the floor- for a second it _almost_ looked like blood. His breath hitches as he looks forward though. The door to his father’s bed chamber is hanging off its hinges- also covered in gouges small fragments splintered on the floor.

“Father!” Anduin calls out louder, racing forward. Clambering over the broken door. His father’s bedroom is no different. The four-poster is littered with feathers from shredded pillows, the drapes ripped and ragged. The floor strewn with Varian’s personal effects- perhaps the most disturbing thing though is the lack of his father and Shalamayne lying abandoned on the ground. The large balcony window is open, though a quick peek yields no sign of his father… which leaves only the bathroom. As Anduin nears the door, he can hear sounds of movement coming from within. His hand stops before he can push the door open. _Should he?_ Clearly his father was not in the best of moods. Given that Anduin had refused his invitation… _well_ maybe it was best to try again tomorrow. Before they both said things in the heat of the moment they would regret. _Though, what if his father is in pain?_ Anduin havers torn between what he should do. In the end he already knows, he pushes the door open and then instantly wishes he hadn’t. 

It’s not his father in the bathroom. _No_. He would rather face a hundred furious Varians’ than what he sees before him. Anduin wants to scream, but he can’t. So paralysed with fear, he struggles to even breathe. In his blind panic, he does manage to stumble back a few steps, only to stand on broken glass. The shattering of glass beneath his feet sounds like an explosion at that moment.

The beast- _for that is surely what it is_ . Swivels round to look at him. Glowing gold eyes locking with his own. The creature snarls, muzzle scrunching back to reveal rather large and no doubt sharp teeth. It rises from it’s crouched position- by the light if he thought it was large before, seeing it on two legs is something else entirely. It scents the air, growling and gazing at him hungrily. _By the Light!_ This is what his father faced? _Alone no less_. Anduin scrambles back a little further, but it’s the wrong move, for the creature only takes it as an invitation to move closer. Thick, dark fur, covers corded muscle. This thing is clearly built for hunting and killing. Unfortunately Anduin seems to be the prey. Has it come back to kill his father?

_Varian!_ Anduin trembles, he can’t see any signs of the man anywhere. The lack of blood at least provides a small modicum of comfort. Though not for him- as the creature closes the gap in a few simple strides. Stalking towards him with all the grace and power of a predator. Anduin could call on the light, if he could remember any of his prayers. It was strange what fear could do to you. He’d heard warriors from all over tell tales of these moments, where their lives flashed before their eyes. Though nothing of the sort is happening to him, probably because he’s too scared to even think. He closes his eyes. It would probably shame his father, but it’s all he could do at this moment. Hot, humid breath blows over his face. Subconsciously he takes a step back.

There’s a loud sound, like thunder. And his back hits the ground. That sensation of falling blindly causing bile to rise up in his throat. _Ah there it is._ As he lies there in the dark, trembling and shaking like a frightened rabbit. _Regrets_ . He never got to speak to his father. Would never get to grow old. Have children. Be king. _He was going to die_. Would anyone even know what had become of him? Would they find anything of him? A large creature like this would have no trouble devouring him whole. To his added mortification, he can feel tears dripping down his face. 

Hot breath blows over his face once more. He turns his head to the side. A cold nose is pressed to that spot just below his ear. Anduin tenses. Holding his breath. The nose moves lower, and the warm breath follows. Dancing over his pulse point- is this where it goes for the kill? It’s an odd thing. Waiting for death. That mix of terror and acceptance. Anduin waits, lungs burning from him still holding his breath. His eyes scrunched as tight as they could go. Muscles screaming in protest and how hard they’re clenched. _Waiting, waiting, waiting_. But nothing happens.

Anduin cracks an eye open. His breath rushes out in a silent scream. The creature is still there just watching him. Did it want to torment him first? Anduin’s heart is racing, and he’s hyperventilating now. Panic takes hold. _Run, run, run_. His brain screams. Which is all very well and good, but his body refuses to comply. A tremor runs through him. And he’s still crying. The beast sits back, gold eyes gleaming with intent. It seems to be bored by him. Moving away to sniff at something else. Anduin continues to lie there. His breathing is finally under control, but his heart is still beating fast. He finds he can’t hear anything save the pounding of his own blood. Excruciatingly slowly he manages to get on his hands and knees. Shalamayne glows from its place on the floor. If he can just reach it- he might have a chance of defending himself. Like a snail he crawls along the floor. Every sound has him tensing like a frightened deer. Yet the beast seems to pay him no heed. The blade is just within arms reach when he hears the warning growl. 

Pain blooms in his shoulder. A large clawed paw pushes him down. Anduin whimpers pathetically. At least he can make a sound now. His whimpers become more desperate as that nose moves along the back of his neck. Anduin’s fingers twitch, the hilt of Shalamayne just in reach. He has _one_ chance. _One_ opportunity to try and save himself. If he fails he will surely be eaten. He tries his hardest to stay brave. Especially when he hears the opening of jaws. _Light._ That thing could probably take his head off in one blow. He has a grip on the blade. He just needs his chance. Time seems to halt as he waits. The creature eases up on his shoulder, and Anduin’s fight or flight instincts kick in.

With a fierce yell- _he has no idea where it came from_. Anduin swings his arms back. He misses entirely. Shalamayne easily knocked from his hand and sent skittering under the bed. Anduin’s stomach plummets. _He’s failed._ _This is it. Death._ He falls back, this time facing up. His eyes lock with the creature.

The beast’s eyes widen. It recoils back- as if burned. Large paw covering its snout. Almost like when a human is disgusted with themselves. Could this _thing_ have awareness? Is it intelligent? Anduin lies there- staring, and the beast stares back. He can see himself reflected back in those golden eyes. His own frightened face, will that be the last thing he sees? The beast staggers back, growling and snarling. Almost as if it’s fighting itself. Anduin can only lie there and watch. The creature makes horrid sounds thrashing about and destroying more furniture. Anduin can’t stop the sob slipping past his lips.

The room falls silent. The creature stills, just it’s eyes piercing through him. For a second it looks as if it’s in pain. Its eyes are soulful as they regard Anduin. He feels a fleeting hope that he’s not going to die. Then the creature resumes thrashing around, letting off horrible guttural sounds. Before arching back and letting out an awful howl- that will haunt Anduin’s dreams until he dies. The creature snorts at him, before it bounds towards the open balcony. Anduin can only gape in a mix of fear and awe as he hears it leap off the stone ledge. 

Anduin lies on the ground, he’s not sure how much time passes as he silently cries. His body like lead, refusing to obey his wishes to run far away from this room. A single moment of clarity hits though. _His father!_ How selfish of him! Anduin shakily rises to his feet. A _very_ quick sweep of the bathroom and all he can find is Varian’s torn cape. No sign of the man, and no sign of blood. Perhaps his father had gone for a walk - _or sought other company,_ his brain unhelpfully supplies. Anduin runs. He runs out of the room, screaming for help. He won’t be able to rest until he knows his father is at least well and that, that _thing_ is gone.

In the distance, a howl rings out across Stormwind.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Art by: <https://www.deviantart.com/elevencl0uds>

Enalis Menethil#3383

Eleven Clouds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Also, a massive thank you to Eleven Clouds for drawing that awesome Worgen Varian!!!!!!
> 
> We have a discord if anyone is interested! Just drop an email to the.little.bidoo@gmail.com for an invite!


	5. In Your Eyes I Saw Myself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Varian wakes up in a _strange _place, unaware of Anduin's ordeal. When told of the events of the previous night, he's forced to confront the son he's been trying to avoid. Can he and Anduin move forward from here?__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! It's been a while! But here we are, a new update.
> 
> I'm going to apologize in advance, this chapter is really angsty and might hurt a little. So you have been warned! Don't come for me!

_ It smells like earth. _ That’s the first thought in Varian’s head as he starts to slowly wake up. He feels cold-  _ no _ , that’s not right, not cold but there is a draft. Had he kicked his blankets off again? Blindly he reaches out for them, frowning when his hands meet nothing, until they brush against, _ leaves? _

Varian’s eyes blink open then, and he’s suddenly alert. Instead of the canopy of his four-poster bed, he’s greeted by the early morning sky. Grey, and bright.  _ Well, that explains the draft.  _ He can’t help but muse as he slowly sits up, hissing as his bare torso catches on the various branches and thorns of the rose bed he’s lying in. He grimaces looking down, he’s only in his linen sleep pants, his nightshirt seems to have vanished. His torso streaked with dirt, and thin cuts. Varian hopes no one sees him, explaining this is going to be a little tricky.

He hadn’t been drinking last night…  _ had he? _ He recalls eating a tense dinner with Valeera, Anduin had declined. Varian massages his temples, he remembered being frustrated and angry. Shaw had told him Anduin seemed distressed but was unwilling to talk- even to him, and Varian had been too much of a coward to face him.  _ How could he? _ He had after all left Anduin to face the House of Nobles  _ alone _ … Not only that, he had avoided him pointedly since the day he woke from his fever.

The strange thoughts, not  _ quite _ his own, didn’t go away.  _ Oh no _ , if anything they only grew more persistent. He was suddenly  _ so _ much more aware of Anduin. It wasn’t right, he was disgusting and until he could purge himself of those thoughts, he would stay away,  _ he had to.  _ He  _ had _ to protect his _ son. _

He groans as he tries to rise from the flower beds. His back aches in protest, not happy with him lying on the cold, hard ground. The cuts littered over his body sting with the movement, just  _ what _ had he been doing last night? That was another thing, he had started to have episodes where he would black out. One minute he’d be in his room, the next he would wake up in the garden or out in the woods. Yet, he was positive he hadn’t resumed his old habit of drinking in excess.

Thankfully the SI:7 agents that had recovered him, had been quiet. No rumours had spread, and no one seemed to be aware of these little moments of weakness. He had forbidden Shaw from telling Anduin. He did not need to cause his boy more worry than he no doubt already had. He swallows a hard lump of raw emotion in his throat. Anduin had refused him last night. Anduin had rejected him. Had he pushed his son away-  _ again? _

“Sire!”

Varian winces, recognizing the harsh whispered tone. He turns to see Shaw heading towards him. The man looks rather flustered, which is very unusual. His gut churns unpleasantly, he can sense the ill tidings from here. Shaw looks more than a little relieved to have found him though, those green eyes examining him closely.

“Thank the light.” Shaw huffs out, finally taking a more relaxed stance. “We  _ need _ to get you inside now, the keep’s in an uproar, the Prince-”

“What happened to Anduin?” Varian rudely cuts in, that feeling in his stomach turning into fear. If anything had happened to Anduin, he would never forgive himself. Self loathing starts to build up and the urge to punch something is so strong. Shaw blinks, but seems to regain his composure quickly, As one would expect from a spy of his calibre.

“Prince Anduin is fine. He’s badly shaken, but otherwise perfectly safe and unharmed.” Shaw pacifies him. Varian realizes he’s looming over the Spymaster, and takes a step back. Shaw seems to relax ever so slightly. “Come, he will want to see you.”   
  
Varian feels apprehensive. He wants nothing more than to see Anduin, yet he feels so ashamed, so filthy. As if him, just being in Anduin’s presence will taint him. He can’t let Anduin see him like this, he can already hear the blond’s worried words, and the way he will insist on being  _ right there _ , in his space.  _ No _ , Varian can’t allow that, not until he  _ fixes _ himself.   
  
“I…” Varian trails lamely, eyes unable to meet Shaw’s scrutinizing stare. He was aware that Shaw thought he should seek help, that he shouldn’t shut Anduin out. But the Spymaster  _ wasn’t a father _ , he _ couldn’t _ understand. Shaw didn’t know what it was like to feel so utterly incompetent,  _ to fail the person you loved most. _ He shakes his head, trying to fight off the melancholy that threatens to overtake him.

“Sire, I don’t know what’s going on between you and the prince… But I think you should go to him. The beast attacked him last night, and he’s… he’s had a  _ rough night. _ The fact you had gone missing only worked him into a frenzy, he’s not slept, ate or drank all night. I think you two should talk, or at least let him know you’re alright.” Shaw seems hesitant at first, before gaining more confidence. His tone is polite and professional. Yet Varian can pick out the slight inflections of tiredness.  _ But then the words sink in. _

The beast had come for Anduin!? Fury rears up in him, how dare that blasted, filthy creature infiltrate  _ hi _ s home, touch  _ his  _ boy. He growls under his breath, he focuses on the anger- because if he doesn’t he  _ will _ break. He had left Anduin alone. Scared, vulnerable and unprotected. What if that thing had killed him!? What if Shaw were telling him his son’s mutilated corpse had been found? Pain washes over him unlike anything else.  _ He could not lose Anduin.  _ He could _ not _ live in a world without his beautiful boy.  _ No, _ his own feelings aside.  _ Anduin needed him. _ He nods to Shaw, ignoring the sag of relief on the other’s man's posture as he follows the Spymaster into the keep.

He follows Shaw up through the back passages of Stormwind keep. Avoiding the eyes of the castle servants, and nobles. He had no doubt if any of the other Lords caught wind of this that he would find himself deposed. Shaw has been quieter than normal, Anduin must be in a bad way. Refusing to speak to Valeera and Shaw was so out of character for the prince. Anduin was in touch with his emotions in a way Varian envied. He wanted to be as open, to tell Anduin how much he meant to him, but with these impure thoughts, filling his brain. Well there was no way he could ever tell Anduin that.

Varian’s growing bored with the grey brick walls. Each passage looks the same, it’s a wonder Shaw can find his way around so effortlessly.  _ He wants to see Anduin. _ No. He  _ needs _ to see Anduin. He can not rest until he knows for certain his son is safe, and is untouched by that monster. _ How did it even get in? _ He snarls as he ponders the implications. He couldn’t keep his own keep safe,  _ his own child safe _ . The nobles would have a field day with this knowledge. He bites his thumbnail absently. Wincing as he tastes dirt and blood. He was missing something, some crucial detail. He’s so lost in thought he barrels straight into Shaw’s outstretched arm, almost toppling them both to the ground. Shaw shoots him an annoyed glare, Varian simply shrugs. A maid walks past their hiding spot, humming away to herself under her breath, completely unaware of their presence. Shaw waits a few moments, even after her footsteps have faded away before they emerge, making a beeline for Anduin’s chambers.

Shaw doesn’t even knock or announce himself. Something in Varian’s mind snarls and thrashes around. Angry at this intrusion, at this _ intimacy. _ He does his best to ignore it, but still his fingers curl into fists, desperate to connect with the Spymaster’s face. That is until he sees Wyll sitting in the anterior chamber, head in hands, looking as if he’s greatly aged. 

“Still no change?” Shaw asks, sounding sympathetic. Wyll looks up, eyes widening comically before the old servant jumps to his feet bowing ridiculously to Varian. Varian fights the urge to grin but, the sombre atmosphere hangs heavy in the air killing all his previous amusement. He tips his head respectfully to the older man.

“No. He’s not moved since you left. His behaviour is starting to worry me. Last night when he finally let me in, it was obvious he had been crying. He barely touched his meal last night too. It’s not like Anduin at all.” Wyll fusses, wringing his hands agitatedly. Varian feels his stomach drop. He should have made more of an effort. Should have pushed aside his discomfort and came for Anduin in person. Varian sighs, pushing past the other two men and making his way to Anduin’s bed chamber. His hand hesitates on the door handle for a few seconds. He tries his best to compose himself. He slowly opens the door.

Composing himself does nothing. Not when he takes in the sight before him. Anduin sits at the foot of his bed, arms hugging his knees to his chest. His blond hair is loose, hanging around his face, looking so unusually unkempt he barely recognizes Anduin. But perhaps what hits him hardest is the haunted look in his boy’s eyes. Anduin seems almost catatonic. Face pale and blank, eyes listless. Tear streaks stain Anduin’s beautiful face, making his eyes and cheeks look puffy, and just so tired looking. He doesn’t even think about it. Striding to Anduin’s side and pulling his boy in for a hug. 

For a moment Anduin doesn’t respond, and Varian is concerned. Until a painful sob tears from the young man’s throat and Varian finds himself engulfed in a surprisingly fierce embrace. He places a hand at the back of Anduin’s head. Massaging the boy’s neck before working his way into the tangled nest that is Anduin’s hair. Rubbing soothing circles into his son’s scalp. Anduin whimpers and whines. The sounds are like physical blows. He feels so helpless, so utterly useless. Anduin is so distressed and all he wants is to hold him, to comfort himself.  _ To breathe in that heavenly scent _ \- he mentally curses, those aren’t his wishes at all. Anduin is his boy. He was fighting with himself. Hoping Anduin can’t see into the disturbed depths of his soul.

“Ssh, I’m here. It’s OK Anduin.” Varian whispers into the crown of Anduin’s head. He rocks the little blond gently, trying to stop the sobs that wrack Anduin’s smaller frame. He kisses Anduin’s temple. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I left you alone.” Varian feels that lump back in his throat. His voice cracks and he buries his face in Anduin’s hair. He can’t show his son his tears, not when he’s the one supposed to be comforting Anduin! They stay like that, for how long he doesn’t know- he doesn’t care.

“Did it hurt you?” Varian finally asks, afraid of the answer.  _ If his son had been harmed in any way… _ He feels Anduin shake his head- a resounding no. He lets out the sigh of relief he had been holding in. And that’s when he notices it.

Anduin has grown significantly taller. The last time he held Anduin like this, his boy barely reached his chest. Now Anduin was at level with his chin. When had his son changed from boy to man? Longing and regret hit him all at once. How much time had he wasted? Falling into despair, missing Anduin’s childhood. Being taken for a fool by Onyxia. So many missed opportunities. It was like in the blink of an eye his boy had grown up before him. No longer the little child always asking questions, wanting to spend time with him, struggling with his sword lessons. Now Anduin was a man, taking charge, following his own path- away from Varian. Not a warrior but rather a priest. As if trying to show the world, he was completely different from his father. 

It was no wonder. Looking back on it all now, he had proven time after time he was nothing more than a brute. Always willing to shed blood, unlike Anduin who sought peace. They were like night and day. And before he realized it, his own son had become a stranger to him. He tries to remember the last time they actually sat down and talked about everything and nothing, but no memory springs to mind. Yet, he had the audacity to act possessive, to threaten carnage on those who would try to take him away. He recalls Moira’s frightened face. He had been fully prepared to hack her into little pieces, just because she tried to make his son her captive. Not even just her, her  _ infant _ son. 

Suddenly he wants to pull away. What was he thinking!? Why did he ever think himself worthy of Anduin’s love? He really was disgusting. Realizing it wasn’t even familial love he was seeking.  _ He wanted Anduin. _ He inhales the scent of Anduin’s hair, the familiar floral scent, calming him. His fingers twitch and Anduin lets out a shocked gasp.

“Sorry.” Varian mumbles out, releasing Anduin after realizing he had just tried to dig his nails into him. Why did his body seem so intent on marking the boy!? His fingernails had grown long again,  _ strange, _ he thought he had cut them just yesterday. Thankfully there seems to be no lasting damage to Anduin. The boy looks at him with wide eyes, taking him in for the first time.

“ _ Father! _ What in the name of-” Anduin suddenly exclaims, leaping off the bed and standing before him. “What happened to you!? You look as if you’ve been dragged through a bush,  _ backwards! _ ” Anduin immediately-  _ and as predicted _ , starts fussing over him. Varian feels the retort about Anduin’s appearance on the tip of his tongue but swallows it down. It seemed Anduin was using Varian’s current state as a way to distract from his own pain. They would need to address this later. When Anduin couldn’t hide any more- when  _ he _ couldn’t put it off any longer.

Anduin breaks him out of his thoughts, the younger man’s small hands prodding at the cuts on his chest. Varian hisses, but not because of the pain, _ oh no _ . He wishes that were the case, but watching Anduin’s hands move over his chest, the delicate and tender way the little priest inspects each mark on his skin. The way Anduin’s pale skin contrasts against his own olive tone. A thumb caressing over his abs, where there’s a streak of dirt. Anduin’s nose wrinkled in confusion and concern.

_ “Where were you?”  _ Anduin whispers out, eyes not meeting Varian. It’s a strange thing, to see shadows in Anduin’s normally clear gaze. He feels suddenly very guilty, maybe it’s because he’s about to lie straight to Anduin’s face. Anduin lets out a tired sounding sigh, hands resting on the planes of Varian’s stomach. His head bowed as if lost in prayer, but Varian knows better. He opens his mouth, but Anduin isn’t finished.   
  
“I was so afraid.” The little blond continues to whisper, as if terrified of raising his voice. “I thought I was going to die. I thought you were dead. I thought-” Anduin’s voice cracks and his frame trembles. Hot tears drip onto Varian’s chilled skin. His insides shrivel up. He has no idea what to do, what to say! He was so incompetent when it came to times like these.  _ Typical. _ When Anduin needed him he was going to fail him.

His mind wanders to another time, where Anduin made this face.  _ This exact face. _ When he had returned after Katrana had told everyone he was dead. True it had only been one half of him, and he’d been enchanted, but he could remember clearly. His boy, crying into his chest as he hugged him, probably for the first time in years. Sometimes he let his demons overtake him, the fact Anduin resembled Tiffin had hurt. Looking into his son’s eyes every day had fuelled his own self loathing. Because of _ his _ weakness Anduin had grown up with no mother. With no father either for a portion of his childhood. All because Varian had let misguided pride get in his way. 

Then what had he done, once he was whole again? He had squandered his time with Anduin, butting heads over petty things. Berating Anduin for his choices, for not being more like him.  _ Because he was such a paragon of a functioning man. _ Perhaps the worst had been Anduin leaving him. True it had only been temporary, but he had wanted to kill Velen that day. Not only that, he had toyed with the notion of locking Anduin in the keep! He had even laid hands on his son, bruising his arm and earning himself  _ that _ look from _ those _ eyes. It was no wonder he had fallen back into old habits. Drinking to forget-  _ but he never did.  _ He only dwelled on the ‘what ifs’. And he always recalled the pity he had seen in those blue eyes.

“Father?” Anduin’s meek voice cut through his trip down memory lane. Varian starts, how could he wander off like that!? He mentally chides himself, looking down, and meeting Anduin’s eyes for the first time. They pierce through him more effectively than any blade. His chest constricts almost painfully. Anduin worries his lip. Varian tries his best not to stare. The sight stirring something in him, he can’t quite explain.

_ Devour him, and end the pain. _

The voice whispers sweetly to him, causing him to tense. He needs to put distance between them.  _ What if he hurt Anduin? _ Instinctively his arms rise up, and he pushes Anduin back. The boy stumbles back, very much caught off guard. Those blue eyes flare with anger and hurt for a moment before they quiet down, replaced with something he can’t fathom.

“I-” Varian flounders for the words. How to make Anduin understand, how to assure him he’s done nothing wrong, and it’s Varian’s own fucked up head that’s the danger. He tries to take a calming breath, but his head swims breathing in the scent that is only Anduin. 

_ Prey is before us. Hunt. Feast. Ravish. _

“Father if I’ve done something-” Anduin hurriedly says, taking a step closer. Completely oblivious to the danger. “Please just talk to me. If you need space let me know, don’t shut me out. I can’t-” Anduin halts his movements looking away. Varian feels his heart break. He was standing here letting his son think he didn’t want him around. When in fact it couldn’t be farther from the truth. He very much  _ wanted _ Anduin and therein lay the problem. 

“It’s not that. It’s not you. I just-” Varian tries closing his eyes, trying to block out the distractions. There had to be some way to communicate without divulging too much. “I just haven’t felt myself since the fever.” He chooses his words carefully. Anduin seems surprised, eyes widening at the admission. The blond swallows, Varian’s traitorous eyes following the movement expertly. His senses so honed in on Anduin he’s sure to go mad. 

“Father, it’s OK.” Anduin tries to soothe him, like one would a small child. Speaking softly and slowly. “I know your wound is bothering you, that you’re frustrated that you can’t solve the problem. But you aren’t alone, not this time. _ Let me help you, don’t carry it all on your own.” _

Varian has to look away.  _ When had Anduin become so good at this? _ Was it all those times as a child he had to dance around Varian’s surliness and drunken tempers? He seems to know just what to say, and it makes him feel more helpless. A parent should be there for their child not the other way around. Anduin acted more like a concerned wife than his son and heir. That was the sad truth laid bare, and a small twisted part of him  _ enjoyed it _ . 

“I should head back to my chambers and prepare for the day. I think it’s best if you rest. I’ve been informed you haven’t been taking care of yourself and I can’t have you making yourself ill. So stay here and sleep, I’ll have Wyll bring you breakfast.” Varian says, running through the motions. He couldn’t bear to face Anduin, for the prince to see how shaken he truly was. He would need to come back later to get a full account of the attack from Anduin, but right now he needed to be alone. Anduin didn’t need him, he would have Shaw, Wyll and Valeera around him. Even Velen since the older man was still here. Anduin makes a pained sound.

“I’m perfectly fine! I just need to freshen up, and I’ll be ready to join you in the council-”

**“No!”** Varian snarls, turning to meet Anduin’s eyes then. Anger burns in his gut, why couldn’t Anduin do this one thing? Why couldn’t the boy put himself first for once? It was infuriating as much as it was endearing. Anduin stares back defiantly, but Varian can see the small quiver of those pink lips. He had hit a nerve. Anduin however seems to war with himself before his stare becomes angry.

“ _ No? _ You’re going to keep shutting me out, even when it’s clear you’re struggling?” Anduin puts his hands on his hips, foot tapping impatiently on the floor. Varian arches a brow. “I’ve had enough of this. I’m not ten any more, I know a bit more about the world and what you get up to.” Anduin blushes faintly, and Varian frowns, unsure of what he means. “My point is, I’m the  _ Crown Prince _ and have every right to be in those meetings. I’m also eighteen and an adult, so really you  _ can’t  _ order me around.  _ Unless _ you’re going to command me as the king.” Anduin snaps back, head tilted clearly waiting for Varian to make the next move.

Varian stares back, impressed by the backbone being displayed. Anyone else would have balked under his snarl, especially when his teeth were bared. But not Anduin. His son was maybe  _ too much _ his son at times. The obnoxious tapping of his foot grates on his nerves, and Varian takes a moment to reign his temper in.

_ Very impressive. This one has no fear. Take him! _

He growls to drown out the thoughts. They weren’t helping the already tense situation. He regards Anduin coolly, neither saying a word, neither backing down from the silent challenge. His head aches, a sharp pain. His vision blurs, or rather distorts.

_ Anduin standing before him. Trembling with fear, eyes wide and frightened. Slowly stepping away from him.  _

Varian staggers back, what was that!? Those images of Anduin frightened, crying, lying on the ground. They flood his thoughts, his gut burns hot with shame. Anduin drops his defiance and once again looks concerned. Varian wants to tell him to step back, but he can’t find the words. He can’t let Anduin touch him. He can’t be near Anduin. Anduin mustn’t see him like this.  _ Anduin. Anduin. Anduin. _

“Father, it’s alright.” Small but firm hands grip his forearms. Varian wants to scream, but suddenly he feels a sense of calm coming over him. Anduin has his eyes closed, lips moving soundlessly. His son is glowing, radiating with the light he worships. And for the first time in a while Varian feels at ease. His fingers wrap themselves around Anduin’s arms, thumbs rubbing circles on the smooth flesh they find. Anduin’s eyes open, the golden light reflecting in them and stealing Varian’s breath for a moment. He’s never seen such a lovely sight. He can almost forget all his sins staring at Anduin like this. Until reality hits like a bucket of ice water.

“I’m fine now Anduin.” He mutters out, standing straight, waiting for Anduin to let go of his arms. Even though he has yet to release Anduin’s. The stand there just staring into each other’s eyes, like a scene from some sordid romance novel. The ones Anduin doesn’t think he knows about. Varian feels his cheeks heat, that he’s thought such a thing while looking into the eyes of his  _ son _ . He clears his throat to try and shake the embarrassment he feels. Anduin offers a small smile, eyes knowing as he slowly releases Varian’s arms. Varian misses the touch instantly. But follows suit.

“Very well.” Varian grouses out, eyes still on Anduin’s, seeing himself reflected back. It’s unnerving but why he can’t explain. “You are to rest-” He frowns as Anduin opens his mouth, shooting the boy a warning glare that has that silver tongue darting back into his mouth. “ _ Thank you. _ You are to rest for the day.  _ If Wyl _ l feels you are back to your usual self,  _ then  _ tomorrow you may rejoin the council.” Varian finishes. Watching Anduin’s expression for any sign of resistance. Instead, Anduin simply smiles warmly at him. Nodding his head in agreement. Varian lets out the sigh he didn’t realize he was holding.

“A fair compromise.” Anduin replies, sitting back on the end of his bed, looking so much older than eighteen. “You should, uh, probably change. I’m sure the keep would have a field day if anyone saw you like this.” Anduin gestures to all of Varian. Eyes pointedly looking at the wall behind him. Varian frowns, feeling a little hurt that he repulses Anduin so. It’s hardly surprising given the scars and hair that litter his torso. Now joined by scratches and soil. 

“Of course. I will head back to my chambers-”

“Didn’t Shaw tell you?” Anduin interjects, looking surprised. He worries his lip again, and Varian can’t stop the small growl that rumbles in his chest. Thankfully Anduin doesn’t hear him, looking as if he’s trying to think how best to phrase his next bit of information.

“Tell me what?” Varian can’t help but sigh out, he’s feeling tired now. He leans against Anduin’s bathroom door. The little blond winces slightly but seems to find his resolve.

“Your room was completely trashed. All your furniture is broken beyond repair, some of your personal effects are damaged… your bathroom is,  _ well you’ll not be having a bath there for a while _ …” Anduin trails off, looking a little sheepish as he takes in Varian’s grimace.

“My clothes?” Varian asks, hoping for good news. Anduin smiles which is reassuring.

“Your clothes are fine, I had them moved… to here… I, uh, well I figured you could have my room since it’s more fitting for you.”

Varian scowls,  _ what kind of father would he be to take his son’s room? _ He shakes his head at Anduin, sometimes his boy’s altruism worries him. Did Anduin really think having a grand room was important to him? He only really used his private quarters to sleep these days. There were too many memories, too many ghosts that haunted that old room for him to be able to relax there. Anduin’s comfort and well-being was always his topmost priority.

“I’m not taking your room. I’ll sleep in one of the  _ many _ guest rooms we have. It’s hardly much of an inconvenience. I’ll bathe here then, since my clothes are already here.  _ If you don’t mind? _ ” Varian says calmly, brow furrowing at the strange flush creeping up Anduin’s neck and face. It would be the icing on the cake if due to all his worrying Anduin had caught a cold or flu. He takes a step over to his boy, checking how warm his head feels with his hand. Thankfully it feels normal, Anduin makes a strange noise, eyes wide as he stares at him.

“Of course! That’s fine. Go right ahead… I’ll uh… I’ll get Wyll to send us breakfast.”

Varian watches him scamper off with veiled amusement. Some things at least never change. Without any more distractions Varian heads to the bath, to make himself presentable for the House of Nobles. He briefly entertained the notion of asking Anduin to join him, but now that Anduin was eighteen it was less appropriate than when he had been eight. For once his mind seems at ease, no more whispers or strange flashes. He simply soaks, before scrubbing himself clean. His cuts sting, but he ignores it, they are reminders of his own stupidity, let that be a lesson to him never to drink again. Finally, unable to sit any longer, he leaves the warmth of the bath, wrapping a towel around him. Hopefully Anduin had brought his clothes into the bedroom.

He’s surprised to find Anduin sitting on the bed with two trays of food, munching on toast and looking a million miles away. Varian suddenly feels self-conscious, perhaps he should have asked for his clothes  _ before _ he went in the bath. It’s too late now, he tries not to cringe at the way Anduin’s eyes go wide and the boy chokes on his toast. Yet another difference between them, he was hard, grizzled and scarred. Anduin was still soft and unblemished- something he  _ prayed _ would never change. To Anduin’s eyes, he was probably difficult to look at, well there was also the fact that  _ no _ teenager wants to see their  _ half naked _ father appear in their bedroom. He ends up next to Anduin, smacking the boy’s back, making sure he isn’t choking. 

“Sorry… I should have asked for my clothes… I just thought you’d eat in the anterior chamber.” Varian says rather lamely as Anduin gasps for breath, his face a worrying shade of red. It takes a few moments for the prince to get a hold of himself. Anduin shakes his head, a sheepish smile on his face.

“Ah! No, I was going to but Wyll told me I should stay in bed and I just forgot about your clothes, they’re um, they’re over there.” Anduin points to his dresser where a small bundle of clothes rest. Varian nods, grateful that Anduin at least listens to someone around here. He swallows down the bitterness that rises in his throat. The sting of Anduin taking the advice he just offered from someone else without fuss. He really didn’t have a clue about how to parent, and not for the first time wishes it had been he that had died all those years ago. 

“Father?” Anduin calls out, looking worried. “Are you sure you’re fine to carry on with the day’s duties? You look far more tired than me.”

Varian turns to regard Anduin with an unimpressed look. The cheek of that boy!  _ Had he seen himself in a mirror? _ At least Varian had got some sleep,  _ not in his bed sure _ , but he still got to sleep. He didn’t feel tired at all if he were honest, after his bath he felt more aware. Perhaps it was because he now knew Anduin was well, and the adrenaline had worn off from his early morning shock. 

“Any more of your lip and I might rescind my offer to let you rejoin council meetings.” Varian barks out, using Anduin’s smaller towel to dry his unruly mane. A good brush would have it back to its usual self, he ignores Anduin’s snort from behind him. Focusing on dressing hurriedly, keenly aware of eyes on his backside the entire time. What did Anduin find so fascinating? He can’t help but wonder, tempted to turn and meet the stare, but too self-conscious of the flush creeping up his neck. 

“Sorry.” Anduin mumbles out, and just like that the burning stare disappears. Varian doesn’t know whether to feel relieved or anxious. “Wyll brought breakfast for you too.”

Varian wrestles his hair into a tie, feeling much more like himself when he looks in the mirror. Though he’s not wearing armour, he feels bare without it. These more formal clothes were too soft and thin. They made him feel as though the eyes of all those around him could pierce straight through in an instant. Perhaps that’s why he was always so guarded. He sighs, folding the towel and leaving it on the dresser. Joining Anduin on the bed. He can’t actually recall the two of them eating a meal so intimately before. On the bed with no tables, no Wyll hovering over them, and hopefully no Valeera trying to sneak in.

He was going to have to speak with her. Her constant persistence at being by his side at nearly all times of the day was becoming irritating. He wondered how much of it was her own choice and how much of it was Shaw pushing to have eyes on him at all times. That was the price he paid, for wanting to keep secrets in this place. Absently he reaches out to ruffle Anduin’s hair. The gesture is familiar and soothing. Just feeling the little blond alive and warm, seemed to ease his worries. Anduin makes a muffled noise, but leans into the touch. It causes a pang in Varian’s chest, to see how pleased Anduin is with such a small gesture, his boy so touch starved due to Varian’s need to appear strong and invincible. If anyone knew just  _ how important _ Anduin was to him… He would do  _ anything _ for Anduin, and he meant it. It scared him at times, how willing he was to commit atrocities just to keep that smile and those eyes by his side. Not even Queen Tiffin had elicited such feelings in him.

“Do you  _ have _ to go?”

Varian finds himself pulled back out the rabbit hole. Anduin is leaning against him, face hidden in the fabric of Varian’s shirt sleeve. It always amazed him how small Anduin was- compared to him. By all rights Anduin was average height for a man his age. He feels his expression soften, though it’s wasted since Anduin isn’t looking. He strokes his hand, over Anduin’s head and down his back. Letting out a hum in response.

“ _ Unfortunately, _ yes. As much I would rather walk barefoot through fire, I am obligated to have these meetings and see the people of Stormwind protected.” He resists the urge to lean down and kiss Anduin’s head. Afraid of what smelling the boy’s hair will stir in him. He wanted to enjoy being free from the voice in his head. It made it so hard to concentrate at times. Anduin scoots closer to him, as if afraid he will vanish. Guilt pools in his gut again when he realizes that, that’s exactly what he’s been doing for the last week. 

“Can’t we, just this once, tell them to go away.  _ What good do they do anyway? _ ” Anduin whines. Varian can empathize with his frustrations. But without the House of Nobles nothing would get done, they were a necessary evil, if you will. Anduin sighs against him, he probably knows that Varian can’t linger. But Varian won’t begrudge him his moment of childishness. 

“I wish.  _ Believe me _ , I would rather eat my own head than attend another pointless meeting. But, they hold lands, and they pay into the coffers. Stormwind wouldn’t be able to run without them.” Varian says softly, it’s an important lesson. One he recalls his own father, and later Anduin Lothar passing on to him. He had been just as tired with them back then as Anduin was now, at least he had had Tiffin to help him through. Anduin couldn’t even rely on him, due to his short fuse and mood swings. He really was inept, he can’t help but think.

“I don’t think I _ can _ sleep.” Anduin says so quietly Varian might have missed it. If not for his new-found heightened sense of hearing. He frowns at the words. He hadn’t considered how Anduin’s ordeal would affect him in the long term. “Every time I close my eyes, I see  _ it _ there, looking at me, ready to hunt me.” Anduin pulls away, wrapping his arms around himself, to stop his body trembling.

“I couldn’t do anything.” Anduin admits, looking ashamed. “I froze like a child, I just lay there thinking this was it. When I saw myself in its eyes-” Anduin looks away, a shudder running through his body.

_ Wide blue eyes, like a doe staring back at him. Unshed tears brimming along the rim of those eyes. Fear, so much fear. Acceptance. Submission. _

Varian starts, looking at his own hands. They shake. _Just what was that? Why did he keep seeing Anduin afraid and alone? Was he there?_ **_No._** Surely he’d remember that, he wouldn’t have stood by and done nothing while Anduin was in danger. It must just be his own imagination piecing images together from what Anduin is describing. _Though why does he feel such an ache in his chest though?_ His shoulder throbs, and he cringes. Anduin sees though, eyes narrowing before the boy is kneeling in front of him, almost nose to nose as he runs his hand over the wound. Golden light poured from his hand, as Anduin massaged the scarred shoulder. The throbbing fades, but not completely.

Anduin looks up and freezes, suddenly aware of their proximity.

_ He’s right there. Just lean forward. One bite and he’s yours. _

Varian catches himself, about to bury his face into the crook of Anduin’s neck. He can see Anduin’s pulse dancing under the skin, smelling the scent that is undeniably Anduin. His fingers fist into the bedsheets, an attempt to stop them trying to grip the prince. Anduin’s lips part ever so slightly, eyes fixed on Varian’s. They seem to darken, or perhaps it’s just Varian’s own wretched thinking. Trying to see what he wants. He pulls away. Ignoring the pang of longing in his chest as he does so. Anduin seems to back away slowly, both keep staring at each other, as if unsure of themselves.

“Thank you.” Varian mumbles out. He needs to break this tension that now exists, or perhaps it’s only in his mind. Either way, he can’t have it hovering over them. Anduin smiles at him, eyes drooping a little, and he simply nods. “It feels much better.”

Anduin’s smile becomes sad, but the boy doesn’t press further. Instead, opting to resume eating his cold breakfast. Varian joins him, barely tasting anything, his eyes keep locking on Anduin, especially his mouth. The way he swallows, the small chirps of happiness he makes. Something prickles beneath Varian’s skin, and urge unlike anything he’s felt before.  _ How badly had that fever affected him? _ Was he trying to justify why he had been a shitty father? Because he'd rather have Anduin as a lover?  _ That’s not how it works! _

“Father…” Anduin begins, hesitating as if afraid to voice his request any further. Varian nods encouragingly to him. “I was wondering… and just for tonight… If you could. That is if you would-”

“Spit it out then.” Varian tries to tease, sure Anduin’s about to ask him to not use his hairbrush again, or something trivial like that. Anduin’s cheeks only redden at his words.

“Would you sleep in here with me?” Anduin finally manages. Eyes wide as they take in his facial expression. “Just for tonight! I just, I would feel safer if you were with me.” Anduin looks to the side, beet red and flustered. Clearly it hadn’t been easy to admit. Varian feels his resounding no, disappearing into the recesses of his mind.  _ This was dangerous. _ What if he acted on these disgusting impulses? He didn’t know if they were carnal or if he were actually considering eating his son. Madness must have come for him. It was the only way to justify either option. He should refuse point-blank, and at least know Anduin would be safe from  _ one beast. _

But then worry hits him.  _ What if Anduin were to ask elsewhere? _ Like Shaw… or Valeera. The thought of _ anyone _ lying in a bed with Anduin- even if it were just to sleep.  _ Anyone _ touching him, looking at his sleeping face. Rage fills him, boiling hot and righteous in his gut. He won’t allow it.

_ Mine. Mine. Mine. _

“Fine.” Varian’s mouth answers before his brain can stop him. For once, he seems to agree with the voice. “But only for one night.” He adds, doing his best to sound stern. His pride won’t allow for Anduin to know how pleased the request makes him. As long as he can push his inappropriate thoughts aside, he can do something for Anduin.  _ He can help his boy _ . Be there to support him. Anduin is coming to  _ him for once _ , not someone else. The urge to scoop Anduin into a crushing hug fills him, but he instead rises from the bed. Heading for the door.

“Just be sure to rest. I will return once business has been concluded.”

As he makes his way to the meeting room, he tries not to dwell on the unease creeping up inside him. Anduin’s brilliant smile in the forefront of his mind- the first time since, he had woken, he had seen such a genuine smile on the boy's face.  _ It was because of him. _ He had pleased Anduin.  _ Then why did it feel like tragedy lay in wait around the corner? _ The city bells ring out, signalling the time. Though if he were paying attention he might have noticed the bells sounded more like funeral knells than the usual happy chimes. Varian tries to force the thoughts away.  _ He had to be focused. _ After his stunt yesterday the nobles were going to be more prickly than normal. 

But all his mind can focus on is, that there’s a little blond prince waiting for him. And that smile beaming only for him.

_ All mine. _

Varian doesn’t even notice, as he enters the meeting room, taking his seat. The voice in his head, this time is actually his own. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  


  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhh thank you for reading. I hope it was interesting enough for you!


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